The Answer to Our Lives
by do i need a pen name
Summary: Katie Bell is the star of the British Quidditch League for one shining season before abruptly retiring. These are moments of her life outside of the watchful public eye, from before her career took off and leading up to her retirement. COMPLETE
1. Prologue: Late Summer, 1999

**The Answer to Our Lives**

_Prologue: Late Summer, 1999_

Katie Bell had always been a fantastic Quidditch player.

Flying and playing Quidditch had been two of the main staples of her childhood. It had come as a surprise to no one when she made the Gryffindor house team in her second year at Hogwarts. The following years proved to be difficult, especially where Quidditch was concerned, but Katie was always more than willing to rise to a challenge. It was with pride that she was able to return to Quidditch after recovering from an incident that had almost cost Katie her life in the middle of her seventh year.

It was with absolute astonishment that she found out her housemates weren't the only ones impressed with the part she played in helping Gryffindor to win the Quidditch Cup that year. Before she had even completed her N.E.W.T.'s, Katie was signed on as a reserve chaser for the Holyhead Harpies.

Playing Quidditch professionally had long been a dream of Katie's. Sadly, the universe was not very willing to let Katie live her dreams just yet, even after what she had gone through in her last year at school.

With Albus Dumbledore's death, You-Know-Who gaining control of Wizarding Britain was inevitable. And there was no time for a frivolity such as Quidditch when the world was at war.

Katie was not hindered in the slightest, however. She played her part in the war, and was overjoyed to be a part of the side that emerged victorious once all of the fighting ended.

That is not to say that she had escaped all of the horrors of war, though. It was with a certain humbleness that Katie Bell accepted a position as a starting chaser for the Harpies when the new season was announced in the weeks following Voldemort's defeat. But what better way to try to overcome all of that darkness than with Quidditch?

And so, in the Harpies first game of the season, Katie Bell started as a chaser without ever having played in a professional match before.

It was hard to tell.

Katie quickly became the new rising star of Britain's professional Quidditch League. She ended the season with a league championship for her team and as the Rookie of the Year for the entire league. It was with great anticipation that the Quidditch world looked to the next season, eager to see what great things Katie Bell and her team would do.

It was not to be.

When the Harpies announced their roster for the upcoming season, Katie's name was inexplicably absent from it. They announced their roster in conjunction with every other team in the league and it quickly became clear that Katie, the star chaser, had not been traded. It was an issue that was finally addressed by the manager of the Holyhead Harpies at a press conference later in the day.

"We've been fielding owls all day," the manager stated without preamble, "Questioning our roster. Although she has requested privacy at this time, we would just like to acknowledge that Katie Bell, our former chaser, has chosen to retire from professional Quidditch for personal reasons. She will not be joining the team for the 1999-2000 season. In her place, we have signed Ginevra Weasley as a Chaser."

To say that this announcement put the Quidditch world in an uproar of speculation would be a severe understatement. The rumors ran rampant. Why in Merlin's name would Katie Bell retire from Quidditch at the age of twenty after only one season? And, while she always had been notoriously private, why had she not been seen in public since?

As the season began, the speculation died down, however. It was replaced with awe at Ginny Weasley's skills as a chaser.

Katie Bell had been a superb Quidditch player, but Ginny Weasley was her own personal brand of spectacular.

There was one thing, though, that Katie had been able to accomplish that Ginny did not. Mid-way through the season, the Holyhead Harpies played Puddlemere United. It became the Harpies' first loss of the season. Critics and fans alike couldn't help but compare this match to the previous season's; it was a match that had been popularly declared the best of Katie's short-lived career. It had also been dubbed a face-off between former teammates.

For the first half of her Quidditch career at Hogwarts, the members of Katie's team had been constant. And the one person who held them all together was Oliver Wood, keeper extraordinaire.

After leading his team to Gryffindor's first Quidditch Cup victory in almost a decade, Oliver Wood had been signed as a reserve for Puddlemere United. From the time he had been a young lad, growing up in Scotland, Oliver's dream had been to play professional Quidditch. The sport was, quite simply, what he ate, slept, and breathed. So when he finally got his chance to play, Oliver was going to make every second count.

When Puddlemere's starting keeper retired at the end of Oliver's second season with the team, it was an easy decision to bring him up from the reserve team. Oliver Wood quickly became the greatest keeper that Puddlemere United had ever had. And he had only strengthened that claim by being the main reason that Puddlemere was able to defeat the Harpies in their most recent face-off.

"Great practice today, everyone," The Puddlemere Captain told his teammates towards the end of their Wednesday practice. "Personally, I think you're all in great form. I know it's been said plenty already, but we had an excellent match against Holyhead the other day," There was a murmur of assent from his teammates before he continued, "So, in honor of that, management has agreed that you lot all deserve the day off of training tomorrow."

"Excellent," One of the beaters piped up, slinging his bat over his shoulder. "I vote we all go celebrate that victory again. Who's up for a drink?"

This suggestion was met with supportive cheers from a majority of the team. They all hastened to the team locker room to shower and change out of their dirty practice uniforms. It was as he was about to leave the locker room half an hour later that the captain noticed Oliver still straightening up and putting away all of his gear.

"Oi! Wood!" The captain said loudly, "You coming?"

"Not today," Oliver replied easily, turning his attention toward his captain. "I've got some business that I have to take care of."

"You can't do it in your time off tomorrow?" The captain questioned. "You know one of your lovely teammates is going to want to re-enact several of your saves after he gets a few pints in him, don't you?"

"Is that supposed to be incentive to go?" Oliver asked cheekily.

"It's supposed to be a reminder that you should have to suffer with the rest of the team, Wood," The captain said, though his tone was cheerful. "But if you have better things to do…"

"I do," Oliver insisted. "It's important."

The captain rolled his eyes. "I'll see you bright and early Friday morning."

"Aye, aye, Captain," Oliver replied with a mock salute.

"Get lost, Wood," the captain said, grinning as he finally exited the locker room.

Oliver took a few more minutes to put away the last of his carefully cleaned gear, before standing up from where he had been seated on the bench before his locker. Stretching slightly, he followed the same path the rest of the team had taken out of the locker room, out of the stadium, and over to the nearest apparition point. Spinning on his heal, Oliver apparated directly into his flat, which was situated in the midst of the bustling city that was London.

He paused for a moment in the entryway; the flat was completely silent. He shrugged before making his way down the short hallway and into the living room. The sight that met his eyes there made a warm smile light up his otherwise tired-looking features.

Oliver wasn't quite sure what, exactly, she had been up to that particular day, but it had obviously been enough to warrant a mid-afternoon nap for his wife. Crossing the room in three quick strides, Oliver sank to his knees before the couch where she was fast asleep and pressed a kiss to the top of her head and then another on her heavily pregnant stomach.

In his mind, Katie had never looked more beautiful.


	2. Late Autumn, 1996

_Late Autumn, 1996_

Oliver Wood adored Quidditch. It was his life. Literally. Oliver had been able to fly before he could walk. And after nearly twenty years, playing the sport was practically a natural reflex. Unfortunately, however, reflex does not translate into perfection, which Oliver found out the hard way one blustery November day.

Of course, in his defense, this particular instance in which he lacked perfection wasn't technically _his_ fault. This time, at least.

"Bloody beaters," Oliver muttered to himself as he pulled his sweater over his head.

"That's awfully rude, you know," A voice said from behind Oliver.

"Incredibly rude," A second voice, almost identical to the first, agreed. "I may never recover."

Oliver pulled the sweater the rest of the way on, spinning around on his heel as he did so. He knew those voices…

"Fred! George!" Oliver exclaimed, his accent thicker than usual in his surprise at seeing two of his former teammates standing in the doorway to his hospital room.

"Ollie!" George—or, at least, Oliver was _pretty_ sure it was George—replied just as enthusiastically.

"Now, what's this blasphemy my dear brother and I just happened to hear you swear against beaters?" Fred demanded of his captain, a grin upon his face.

"Nothing against the two of you, that's for sure," Oliver informed the pair, walking over and shaking each of their hands. "It's just thanks to one of the reserve beaters on Puddlemere that I'm here right now…and with the most massive headache."

"For fear of being ashamed of one of our kindred beaters," George stated in a serious voice, "I believe I won't be asking any further questions."

"Good," Oliver replied. "I'd hate for you to be embarrassed on behalf of one of your…er…kindred."

"You always were too kind to us, Ollie," Fred said cheerfully.

"So," Oliver began, pulling his slightly muddy practice robes on over the rest of his clothes, "What brings the two of you here today? Or, better yet, are you two stalking me?"

"Not a chance, dear former captain," George said, the smile fading from his face. "We were just on our way to visit a friend and we happened to overhear one of the trainee healers mention that you were up here. You just have stalker fans everywhere you go, Ollie."

"Thanks," Oliver said dryly. "What friend were you visiting? Anyone I know?"

Fred frowned at this. "Haven't you heard?"

"Heard what?" Oliver asked, frowning slightly himself now at the uncharacteristic seriousness the twins were suddenly displaying.

"It's Katie," Fred stated. "Katie Bell. She was cursed a few weeks back; she's been in St. Mungo's ever since."

Oliver suddenly felt as if time was standing still. Katie Bell? Injured?

"What?" Was all Oliver could manage to get out. "How?"

"She hasn't regained consciousness yet, so all of the details aren't very clear," George said slowly. "But from what they've put together, she was put under the Imperius Curse while in Hogsmeade a few weeks back. Whoever did it gave her a package with a cursed necklace in it, which she accidentally touched. They got her to St. Mungo's pretty quickly, but she hasn't been showing much improvement. The healers…they aren't sure whether or not she's going to make it."

Oliver found himself sitting back down on his hospital bed in shock at the news that George had delivered so hesitantly. Katie Bell? His former chaser?

"We were just heading up to visit her," Fred told Oliver, "If you'd like to come with."

It really wasn't a question. The twins could both plainly see what his answer would be. Without another word, Oliver stood back up on shaky legs and followed the twins out of the private room and through the hospital, thinking hard the whole time.

It had been more than two years since he had seen Katie Bell, which he now regretted. Actually, he had pretty much regretted it constantly for the past two years but had made a concentrated effort not to dwell on the matter. You see, for just about as long as Oliver had known Katie, he had been in love with her. Naturally, he had never acted upon his feelings for her, mostly because there was a bit of an age difference between them; an age difference that had been so very obvious back at Hogwarts. Case in point: when the pair first met, he had been fifteen to her twelve.

In his defense, though, he had fallen in love with her Quidditch abilities first. Something that was perfectly natural, considering that he was Oliver Wood. Quidditch was his _thing_. And Katie Bell was fantastic at it. In all honesty, his feelings hadn't progressed to more than a friend and teammate until his final year at Hogwarts, when she was fourteen and he was seventeen. But that's not to say that he actually noticed when, specifically, his feelings for the younger girl had changed. It was just something he woke up one morning and realized was different; something that had been different for quite some time now.

Not that anything ever came of those feelings. He desperately wanted something to, of course, but he honestly didn't think she would feel the same way. Who would want to date _him_? Plus, he would be leaving school at the end of the year, and she still had three years left. It wouldn't be fair to either of them.

Also, Oliver Wood had a strict no inter-team dating policy. And if there was one thing that could be said about Oliver, it was that he followed all Quidditch-related rules as strictly as possible. After all, Quidditch was what he lived for.

He regretted all of it now.

Who cared about Quidditch when Katie could be dying?

"This is us, mate," Fred said, stopping in front of a door at the end of a hallway. Glancing at the room number, Oliver realized with a start that they were two floors up from where they had started. Funny, he had hardly noticed the trip up here…he had been too focused on his thoughts.

"A private room?" Oliver questioned, surprised.

"They had her in a ward…" Fred said slowly, "But…"

"She screams," George finished when his brother didn't continue. "She has screaming fits, actually. It was disturbing the other patients."

This made Oliver even more nervous than he already was. What had _happened_ to her?

"It helped that Angie had a fit as well," Fred said with a dry smile. "They had her in a ward for the incurably ill. Angie went off on the healers and told them they were all mentally ill if they thought our Katie couldn't pull through this and get better."

"And rightly so," George said with a decisive nod. "So, shall we go in?"

Oliver gestured for Fred and George to enter the room before him, suddenly nervous to see what he would find on the other side of the door. Not only had it been years since he had last seen her—would he even recognize her?—but she was hurt. She was hurt badly. Oliver wasn't sure that he was going to be able to handle whatever he was going to encounter in that hospital room. But he had to pull himself together. Katie needed him. He needed to see her again.

Oliver could not recall a time when Katie had ever been so pale as she was right now. He had never before seen her without that fresh glow that clearly said she had just gotten off her broom. Now, her skin was pale and waxy-looking; he wasn't entirely sure that she was a real person. Her hair was limp and she was also incredibly thin.

"Does she…has she…" Oliver struggled to find the right words as Fred pulled out his wand and vanished the flowers in the vase on the table beside Katie's bed. The redhead then replaced them with a fresh bouquet that Oliver only now noticed he had been holding this entire time. "Has she been getting any food?"

"The healers have tried," George said with a slight frown, his gaze on the girl in the hospital bed before them. "She hasn't regained consciousness, but she tends to get violent when anyone tries to touch her. They have a hard enough time with all of the potions she needs…I think they're all about at their wit's end with figuring out how to cure her."

Oliver pursed his lips.

"He's got that glint in his eyes, Georgie," Fred said, the barest hint of a smile suddenly at the corners of his mouth. "The crazed captain glint. I think the Quidditch Nazi is about to strike again."

"Personally, I always thought the glint got things done quite nicely," George said agreeably.

"They're going to find a cure," Oliver said firmly, taking a few steps forward so that he was standing beside Katie's bed and reaching a hand out to grasp her hand in his larger, much warmer one. "I think I'll be able to instill that…_belief_ in them."

A full-out grin spread across Fred's features, half because of Oliver's words and the other half because Katie hadn't had another one of her screaming fits—as generally tended to happen—when Oliver had taken her hand.

"We really do need to have a word with those Puddlemere beaters," Fred informed his brother.

"Agreed," George replied. "They should have knocked Oliver out ages ago."

Oliver, meanwhile, was too busy staring at the impossibly tiny-looking girl he barely recognized to pay any real attention to what the twins were saying. Katie looked so fragile; she really did look as if she was one step away from death.

But Katie _was_ going to get better. Oliver would do whatever he could to make sure that it happened. And once she did get better again, he swore to himself that he would finally tell her exactly how he felt about her.

It _would_ happen. Oliver was determined.


	3. Early Spring, 1997

_Early Spring, 1997_

The healers really couldn't explain it. Any of it.

The initial diagnosis when Katie was admitted back in October had been simple enough: she had touched a cursed necklace. And they had the necklace in their possession, making the process of creating an antidote that much simpler. Actually administering it was where they began to run into problems. Although unconscious, Katie worked herself into a frenzy whenever anyone attempted to touch her. It was practically impossible to get her any kind of nutrition, let alone the potions that would hopefully help heal her.

Until one day, in mid-November, she had calmed down for no apparent reason that the healers could discover. Katie had steadily improved since then, but the healers still couldn't understand what was going on with her medically. She was getting better, there was no doubt about that, so why hadn't she woken up yet?

Oliver was just as—if not more—stumped as the healers working on Katie's case. But he wasn't going to give up on her recovering just yet. He had made the mistake of drifting out of her life once already and he did not want that to happen again.

Which was why he found himself walking the halls of St. Mungo's on this particular afternoon in early April. It was a familiar route by now; Oliver was sure he could walk it blindfolded. The woman seated in one of the chairs beside the bed looked up when Oliver entered Katie's hospital room.

"Hello, Oliver," Mrs. Bell said with a smile. "How was training today?"

Oliver shrugged, going over and kissing the older woman on the cheek lightly by way of greeting and then taking a seat in the chair opposite her. "Pretty much the same as usual."

"What? No big celebration with the rumor that you're practically guaranteed Rookie of the Year?" Mrs. Bell asked with a knowing grin.

"We at Puddlemere United don't hold much stock in rumors," Oliver informed Mrs. Bell, though there was a smile upon his face as well. It faded a bit, though, as he continued, "And how is she today?"

"The same," Mrs. Bell replied, a frown spreading across her features as her gaze drifted to her daughter. "The latest report from the healers says that she's good as new. Or…at least, she would be if she woke up."

"She will," Oliver said immediately.

"I know," Mrs. Bell said with a heavy sigh, her gaze never leaving her daughter.

Oliver did not immediately reply, entirely unsure how he should. He knew Mrs. Bell would never give up on her daughter, just as Oliver, himself, would never give up on Katie. The long road to her recovery was just wearing on all of them. They were all tired. They just wanted her to finally be good as new again, no matter how hopeless it continued to seem as the months wore one.

In his musing, Oliver's gaze finally landed on the half-eaten tray of food sitting on the table beside Mrs. Bell that was obviously the remains of her lunch.

"You should take a break," Oliver finally suggested. "Why don't you go upstairs for a cup of tea? I'll be down here with Katie."

"It has been a long day," Mrs. Bell admitted. "I've been here since the hospital opened and…well, I suppose stretching my legs would do me some good. A cup of tea sounds nice, too…"

"I'll be here," Oliver repeated as Mrs. Bell slowly got to her feet and left the room with one last, lingering glance at her daughter, lying still on the hospital bed.

"Oh, Katie…" Oliver said, picking up one of her limp hands and holding it gently in his own. "The things we do for the people we love…"

Oliver Wood had become a regular at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries in the past several months. After discovering that Katie was a patient there, he had made a point of visiting her every day that he was in town and not away at a Quidditch match. That had been back in November. It was April now.

In that time, Oliver had caught up with the Weasley twins, Angelina Johnson, and Alicia Spinnet, all of whom he had lost touch with after leaving school but who were frequent visitors at Katie's bedside—nearly as frequent as Oliver, in fact. He had also gotten to know Mr. and Mrs. Bell quite well, as neither was ever very far from their daughter's side.

And then there was Katie…

Katie was doing much better, of that there was no doubt. She was still incredibly pale from all of the time she had been indoors, but there was a bit more color in her cheeks due to the fact that the healers had been able to consistently administer both her potions and regular meals for the past few months. It had also been several months since Katie's last screaming fit. Altogether, her health was vastly improving.

She still remained unconscious, however.

Oliver was on the brink. It had taken nearly losing Katie to realize how much he always had and still did care for her. He knew that she might not feel the same way, but he had always loved her and he just wanted the chance to be able to tell her.

"I love you, Katie Bell," Oliver whispered, breaking the silence of the small hospital room. "Come back to me."

If asked, Oliver would probably say that he had loved Katie from just about the first moment he ever met her. She had been twelve to his fifteen, and she had been, by far, the most superb Chaser he had ever seen. It had been exhilarating just to watch her fly in that first try-out, so many years ago. That initial spark had developed so much more over the years that followed. But, above all else, he would give just about anything to see her fly one more time. That was, in his mind, Katie at her best.

Oliver's grip on Katie's hand tightened almost imperceptibly at that thought. He _would_ see Katie fly again, because she _was_ going to get better. Maybe she would be flying away from him because she thought her former captain was a crazy stalker but, at this point, Oliver was pretty sure he'd be able to take the rejection if it just meant that Katie was going to be okay again.

Now focused more on holding her hand, Oliver couldn't help but smile slightly as he felt the callousness of her small hand. From the calluses to the firm grip—both necessary for successful holding and passing of the Quaffle—she still had a Chaser's hand, even after all of the months of disuse.

Oliver paused suddenly in the midst of his thoughts. Firm grip? In all of the months that he had sat here holding her hand, it had always remained limp in his own grip. Slowly, and with a feeling of intense trepidation, Oliver's gaze travelled from his and Katie's intertwined hands up to her face.

Katie's eyes were open and staring at the plain, white ceiling above her bed.

"Katie?" Oliver barely dared to breathe out, hoping against hope that this wasn't some cruel dream or figment of his imagination. "Katie, can you hear me?"

Slowly, Katie turned her head to the right so that Oliver was now in her line of sight.

"Ol," Katie managed to croak out, her voice rusty from disuse. "D-did we w-win?"

"What?" Was all Oliver could reply, sidetracked slightly by his confusion. What was she talking about? Win what?

"The match," She said with some difficulty, "Did we win? I…I can't remember. Is that why I'm in the…h-hospital wing?"

"The hospital wing?" Oliver repeated with a sudden, breathless laugh, a radiant smile lighting up his face as things clicked into place. It wasn't quite right, but she was definitely awake. "We're at St. Mungo's. You were…Oh Katie, you've finally woken up!" He let out another gleeful laugh and stood up, leaning forward swiftly and pressing a chaste kiss to her forehead, also releasing her hand as he went. "I need to go find a healer!"

He registered her confused expression, but couldn't waste more time talking to her, no matter how desperately he wanted to. What if she fell unconscious again? He needed to find a healer _now_.

Oliver stumbled over his feet in his haste to get to the door. Wrenching it open, he practically fell into Mrs. Bell's arms.

"Oliver? What's wrong?" Mrs. Bell demanded, concern written across her features.

"It's Katie!" Oliver said triumphantly. "She's awake!"


	4. Mid Spring, 1997: Part One

_Mid-Spring, 1997: Part One_

In the immediate aftermath of Katie's almost miraculous recovery, Oliver found himself contemplating quitting his job.

As his luck would have it, Puddlemere was scheduled to go abroad for a match in Luxembourg and they were due to leave just two days after Katie finally regained consciousness. It was a tough battle for Oliver, as he wanted nothing more than to be by Katie's side during her recovery. But, in the end, he knew that, should she ever find out what he had done—and chances were beyond impossible that she _never_ would—Katie Bell would most likely never speak to Oliver again.

And so he went to Luxembourg with the rest of the team.

Naturally, it was the longest-lasting game of his entire Quidditch career. At the end of the two-week long match, Oliver found himself with a not-entirely irrational dislike of seekers. Honestly, they had _one_ job. Just one! How hard could it _possibly_ be to catch the bloody ball, which was roughly the size of a walnut and bewitched to evade capture?! Although Oliver really could have cared less about the outcome of the match by the third day of play, he did believe that the Puddlemere seeker had no idea how lucky he was that he had been the one to finally catch the snitch, in the end, as he was just about the only seeker Oliver had frequent access to and would be quite happy to throttle due to his new dislike of the other man's position.

Needless to say, Oliver was happy to be home. And quite glad that management had decided the whole team deserved a few days off after the long, hard-fought match.

Arriving back in his flat, Oliver was unsurprised to find a build-up of _Prophets_ and mail on the balcony just off his living room, which had accumulated in his time away. Flopping down on his couch with a sigh, Oliver gave a lazy flick of his wand and summoned all of the various mail items. He had just sorted all of the newspapers off to the side—to be perused at a later point in time—leaving him with a rather decent stack of letters, when he noticed that one of the envelopes was definitely not made of parchment, but rather a thinner paper of a decidedly muggle origin.

Casting aside the letter with his name written across it in the familiar Weasley scrawl, Oliver instead picked up the smaller envelope. He knew this handwriting…

_Dear Oliver, _the letter began

_I'm so sorry I haven't been able to contact you sooner. As was likely apparent, I was a bit out of sorts when I first woke up. I do remember that you were there, though. After the Healers finished with all of their tests, Mum told me that you had been to visit me almost every day since you found out I was in St. Mungo's. I was really hoping that you'd come back that next day, so I could see you again, but Angie told me that you had to go out of town for a Quidditch match. Of course, out of all the matches you've had in the past few months, _this_ is the one that lasts for days. Hopefully it will end soon. Bloody seekers can't do their jobs right, can they?_

_It has been just shy of two weeks since I finally woke up from that dreadful sleep, and the Healers say that I'm fit to go home, which I'll do tomorrow. I'll have a few days at home with mum and dad, and then I'll be back to Hogwarts—hopefully to finish up my final year. We'll see how that turns out._

_Anyway, should your match _finally_ end and you receive this letter in time, I would love it if you could stop by some time. Clearly we have a lot to catch up on, and I would really like to thank you in person for coming to see me all of those times while I was in St. Mungo's._

_Please send an owl back as soon as you can so I'll know to kick mum and dad out of the house before you get there!_

_All my love,_

_Katie_

A slow smile spread across Oliver's face as he finished the letter. Katie wanted to see him! Katie wanted to see _him_.

He glanced at the date on the most recent copy of the _Daily Prophet_. Katie's letter had sent her letter two days ago, which meant that she had gone home yesterday. That likely meant she had a maximum of two days left at home before her return to Hogwarts. It was far too late in the day to visit her now, but he didn't have practice tomorrow…

Quickly, Oliver darted across the room to a small desk littered with spare bits of parchment and old plays from his days at Hogwarts. With just the slightest bit of difficulty, he found a clean piece of parchment along with a quill and some ink and wrote out a quick reply to Katie.

Luck must have finally been with him because just as Oliver finished writing his note, his owl flew in through the balcony door that he had left open after retrieving the mail. He hurriedly attached the letter to her leg and then sent her on her way again.

As Oliver watched her disappear in the darkening night sky, the smile on his face widened into a full-on grin.

He was finally going to see Katie again tomorrow.

Oliver was a bundle of nerves the next morning. This particular morning began much the same as any other morning, with Oliver waking before dawn—after all, one never knew when a last-minute dawn training session would be called. And although he didn't have Quidditch at all today, he opted not to go for an early morning ride, as he felt things really wouldn't turn out well for him if he went flying in his current state of mind.

Today was the day he was finally going to tell Katie his true feelings for her.

* * *

Katie wasn't faring much better than Oliver that Tuesday morning. Of course, her anxiety had been going on for several days, now.

It had started pretty much the moment her mother had left her hospital room, the night before Katie was to be released, a sealed letter to one Oliver Wood in her possession. Why had Katie felt the need to write to Oliver, again?

Naturally, part of it was because she genuinely missed her former captain. The Gryffindor team Katie had played on for a majority of her school career had been rather tight-knit, and it just wasn't the same after Oliver had left school. It might have helped if Oliver had kept in touch, but he had been too busy with his fledgling professional Quidditch career to keep up any type of correspondence. Katie really had done her very best to at least attempt to write to him regularly but his dead slow replies had been rather discouraging.

It was with a heavy heart that Katie lost contact with Oliver. Angelina and Alicia attempted to console her, as they were both aware of the younger girl's long-standing crush on their former captain. It was a pain that only time would heal.

So imagine Katie's surprise when she had woken up to one Oliver Wood sitting beside her bed, holding her hand.

Wasn't she supposed to be in her seventh year? Wasn't Oliver long-gone from Hogwarts? Hadn't she been attempting to date boys her own age? Although, admittedly, the last thing she remembered was ducking into the Three Broomsticks with Leanne to avoid one of her more enthusiastic failed dates...

Obviously none of that could be true if Oliver was there beside her. It was only natural for her to assume that she was back in her fourth year and she (and not Harry, for once) had been knocked unconscious during one of Gryffindor's more vicious matches. And Oliver, her dutiful captain, was holding vigil by her bedside, anxiously awaiting for his Chaser to awaken. _This_ must be reality and everything she'd thought to be true was just a dream.

Well, Katie had definitely never been more wrong about something, as she quickly found out for herself when Oliver practically bolted from the room in an attempt to summon a Healer. It was only later, when he never returned, that she found out why he had even been there to begin with.

"_He's been here to see you nearly every day, dear," Her mother informed her, still teary-eyed over her daughter's recovery. "I do believe your friend, Alicia, believes that it's because he fancies you and he regrets that he never told you before you lost contact with each other. Whatever his reasons, he's been absolutely wonderful company these past months."_

Ha! As if. Oliver Wood? Fancy her, plain, old Katie Bell? It would have been Alicia to come up with that sort of nonsense.

But what other reason would Oliver have had to visit so often? After all she had done to attempt to get over her older friend, she wasn't entirely sure she could handle allowing herself embrace Alicia's suggestion.

And yet...

Fred, George, Alicia, and Angelina had all kept in regular contact with Katie after they left school. They were her closest friends, outside of her year-mates. But they hadn't stopped by _nearly_ as often as Oliver had; only about once a week—or so her mother claimed. Not that Katie would ever hold this against them. She was touched that any of them had visited her that much.

But back to the point: why had _Oliver_, of all people, visited so much?

And so she had written him a letter, inviting him to come visit before she returned to school. Because naturally the best way to get over an old crush was to invite him over. Nervous could barely begin to cover what she was feeling the morning of Oliver's intended visit, but she would try to find some Gryffindor courage.

Big-shot, professional Quidditch player, soon-to-be Rookie of the Year, completely _adorable _Oliver Wood had spent a majority of his free time over the past several months sitting at the bedside of a comatose Katie Bell, and she was determined to find out why.

**a/n—At the time I posted this chapter, there were 11 reviews, 11 favorites, and 11 follows for this story. Naturally, this is far too much perfection, so I've made the executive decision that there need to be more reviews.**


	5. Mid Spring, 1997: Part Two

_Mid-Spring, 1997: Part Two_

Oliver had never been to Katie's home before. But now, as he stood before it, he contemplated the idea of never, ever seeing the inside of it. Because going inside would entail talking to Katie. And talking to Katie meant that he would finally reveal his true feelings for her. And revealing his true feelings to her would most likely result in losing her so soon after finally entering her life again. Because how could she honestly return his feelings?

Really, it would just be for the best if Oliver turned around now and left. Except…then Katie would be upset that Oliver had stood her up, he just knew it. And Oliver would hate to do anything that would upset Katie.

And so, with a deep, calming breath, Oliver walked up the cobblestone path to the front door and rapped on it three times with his knuckles.

_Stay calm_, he told himself._ Don't run away. Everything is going to be fine. She's not going to hate me for this…too much…I hope._

His thoughts were interrupted, however, by the opening of the front door. A beaming Katie stood there, her hand on the door knob. Oliver was pleased to see that, although she still looked painfully thin compared to how he was used to seeing her, she wasn't nearly as pale as she had been just two short weeks earlier.

"Oliver!" Katie cried in greeting, throwing her arms around his neck. She might have been harboring a secret crush on her captain for years, but Katie Bell had never exactly been shy. A hug was a natural response when greeting someone she hadn't properly seen in years. Plus, for as adamantly as she refused to admit her feelings to Oliver, she would take any chance she could get to touch him. And yes, she was fully aware that she clearly had a problem.

"Hey, Kates," Oliver replied, wrapping his arms around her as well. She gave a small sigh of contentment; she really could stand here forever in his arms, listening to him talk in that voice of his. But, sadly, that wouldn't get anything truly meaningful accomplished for her—after all, she needed to know the reason behind all of his visits—so she reluctantly drew back from the embrace.

"Come in," She gestured for him to follow her through the house. "Mum and dad aren't home. I convinced them that they needed some time alone to relax after everything they've been through in the past few months. Mum was all set to stay here, though. She told me she could relax once I was back at school, but Dad told her she'd feel better going out now when she knew she'd actually be coming home to me. And I'm rambling, aren't I? Sorry."

"It's alright," Oliver told her, taking a seat in one of the kitchen chairs as Katie got them drinks. She couldn't help but internally swoon at the sound of his voice again. Why _was_ she doing all of the talking when she could be listening to this? "It's actually pretty nice to hear you talking again. Besides, the Katie Bell I remember from school was never really one for keeping quiet."

Katie smiled slightly. "Well, it's not as if I ever really made _that_ much noise. You know it was all Fred and George, really."

"Just them?" Oliver smirked slightly, causing Katie to swoon slightly, yet again.

"I feel like you're trying to trap me into admitting a secret alliance that the twins and I may or may not have had," Katie said, narrowing her eyes playfully at him. "Therefore, I'm going to have to change the subject. So, how have you been? How's Quidditch? You seem to have made an impression on my mum. She can't stop going on about how it would be a crime if you don't get Rookie of the Year."

Oliver smiled slightly, accepting the mug of tea she handed him. "Your mum is great. Quidditch is going alright, too," He added with a roll of his eyes. "Management has given us a few days off after that ridiculously long game in Luxembourg. I don't think this has ever happened before, but I think I'm glad for the break from Quidditch."

Katie gasped theatrically as she took the chair across from his, her own mug of tea in one hand while the other went up to clutch her chest. "Oliver Wood? Tired of Quidditch? Are you sure you aren't ill?"

"It gets worse," Oliver said, leaning forward and speaking in a conspiratorial whisper, "This morning…I didn't even go for my usual morning ride."

"It must have been something in the water in Bigonville," Katie replied thoughtfully.

"Without a doubt," Oliver agreed.

Katie couldn't help but let out a small giggle at how serious Oliver's tone was. At her giggle, he gave her a challenging look, causing her to burst into full-out laughter, which Oliver quickly joined in on.

"I've missed you," Katie admitted, once she had caught her breath again. She raised her mug to her lips and took a small sip of tea before continuing, "Even with the insanity that I may or may not have been involved in, we had some good times, didn't we?"

"The best," Oliver agreed easily. "All of you—you, Fred, George, Ang, Alicia, and Harry—you were by the far the best team I've ever been a part of."

"But even taking Quidditch out of the picture," Katie said thoughtfully, "We all had great times together as friends."

"Sure," Oliver said with a small shrug, not entirely sure where Katie was going with any of this. "We were all really good friends—well, with the exception of Harry, I suppose."

"Is that why you came to visit so much?" Katie couldn't help but ask. "Because we used to be friends?"

"Well…er…" Oliver scrambled for something to say, thrown off by the sudden change their conversation had taken. "I thought we were still friends?"

"Friends who haven't seen each other in years?" Katie questioned. "Friends who stop replying to letters?"

Oliver ran a hand through his hair nervously. "Are…Well, are you mad about that? Me not writing back, I mean. I got all of your letters," He hastened to say. "I just…never got around to replying after the first couple."

"What? No! I'm not mad," Katie said swiftly. "I never was," She continued, then twisted her lips into a sheepish smile at Oliver's dubious expression. "Alright, so maybe that's a lie; it _was_ a tad upsetting to me that you stopped replying, which is why I then stopped writing to you. But I understood. You were starting to make it as a professional Quidditch player—your lifelong dream. You just didn't have time for me anymore. Which is perfectly understandable, of course. I was never anyone really important."

"Well that's hardly true," Oliver corrected her. "You've always been important to me. That's why I visited you at St. Mungo's."

"Ah, yes. I was one of the most superb chasers you'd ever seen," Katie stated wryly, sounding as if she was reciting something she had heard very often, once upon a time.

"Quidditch doesn't have anything to do with it," Oliver said immediately. Now it was Katie's turn to look dubious, and Oliver quickly retracted his statement, "Yes, alright, I know, Quidditch _always_ has something to do with things when I'm involved."

"You wouldn't be Oliver Wood, otherwise," Katie said with a small grin. "I think we've already established that something would have to go horribly awry for you to stop considering Quidditch your number one priority."

"There _are_ other 'priorities' I'd rather have," Oliver admitted slowly.

"Like what?" Katie asked, genuinely curious.

"Well," Oliver began slowly, running his hand through his hair again, his nerves getting the best of him. "For the past few months, I'd say my top priority has been you. Really, Quidditch has just been a way of blowing off steam. That's why I'm having such a good season; it's just a way to get rid of all of the pent-up frustrations."

"Me?" Katie questioned, dubious once more.

"There's something I never told you," Oliver said suddenly, making the spur of the moment decision that this was good a moment as any to finally come clean to her. He reached past their abandoned and now-cold mugs of tea to grasp her hands in his own. He could feel the familiar calluses as he gave her hands a gentle squeeze and was pleased to note that she didn't attempt to pull out of his grip.

Oliver took a deep breath before continuing to speak, "Katie…I…well, I've fancied you for a while, now. Pretty much as long as I've known you, actually. Honestly, it started the first time I ever saw you fly—you were brilliant, you know; I don't know if I ever told you quite how thrilling it is to watch you in the air, especially that first time at trials. And then of course you made the team and I got to know you better, and that just made me like you even more. I just…I never thought you felt the same way. You always seemed perfectly fine with our friendship…and I _am_ a few years older than you. I thought saying anything to you would have ruined what we had, and I couldn't bear the thought of not being able to talk to you normally again."

He gave a wry laugh here. "Of course, then I went and ruined everything anyway, didn't I? I feel as if being busy with training is such a silly excuse, but it's the best I can come up with for why I stopped writing back. And then it just seemed rather pathetic to try and get back into contact with you after so long. But then I ran into Fred and George at St. Mungo's and I realized…Katie, there was a chance I really was going to lose you forever…and I couldn't bear the thought of you never knowing how I really feel about you."


	6. Mid Spring, 1997: Part Three

_Mid-Spring, 1997: Part Three_

Oliver was quiet now, having said his part. He instead kept his gaze fixed on Katie, waiting for her reaction. Katie, for her part, had remained silent throughout his entire monologue. But now she contemplated him with a slight tilt of her head; he couldn't quite read the expression upon her face, which worried him.

"My mum is a big gossip, you know," She finally said, confusing Oliver. "Almost as big a gossip as Alicia, in fact. And the two of them spent plenty of time together over the past few months, or so I'm told." She paused here momentarily, considering her next words, "I remember you being there right after I woke up, and when you didn't return after all of the healers left, I asked mum about you being there. She told me she thought—well, she said it was _Alicia's_ idea, but I know it was hers, too. Anyway, she said that you visited so much because you fancied me and regretted never telling me before we lost touch. I thought she was just being silly."

At this, Oliver opened his mouth to say something, but Katie continued on over any protests he may have had, "But of course that was mostly just because I didn't think that the boy I've been in love with since I was thirteen could ever feel the same way about me."

"What?" Was the only response Oliver could come up with to that, completely dumbfounded. That was definitely not what he'd been expecting her to say. Hoping, yes. But definitely not expecting. In fact, he was probably dreaming right now; he was sure to wake up any second now. Except Katie kept right on talking…

"I fancy you, too, Oliver," Katie said slowly, leaning forward a bit as she spoke. "Probably not quite as long as you've fancied me, though. I always respected you as a captain…but the way you pulled the team together and still tried to go for the Cup even though Harry was unconscious in the Hospital Wing—I'd say that was probably when my feelings for you started to change. You've always been rather brilliant, Oliver; as a captain and a person." She grinned slyly now, "It also doesn't hurt that you've got an incredibly sexy accent."

"So you like me because I'm Scottish and I play Quidditch?" Oliver asked, attempting and failing to wrap his head around things.

"Hardly," Katie scoffed. "Maybe that's why I noticed you at first, but I like you because you're _Oliver_."

"And you don't mind that I'm a bit older than you?" Oliver questioned, still unsure if the conversation he was currently happening was for real. Katie really fancied _him_?

"I'm seventeen," Katie reminded him, then she frowned. "No…actually, I'm eighteen now. I missed my birthday…" She shook her head slightly and her expression cleared. "And you're twenty one. That's hardly a ridiculous age gap. And even if it was, age is _just_ a number. I mean, yeah, technically I'm still in school, but I should be done soon…probably. Then it really won't matter at all. Not that it _ever_ mattered to me, except when I thought you could never possibly like me because I'm so much younger than you."

"So what you're telling me," Oliver began slowly, "Is that if we weren't both so stupid we could have been together ages ago?"

"No," Katie said shortly, and Oliver swore his heart skipped a beat at her clipped tone. "What I'm telling you is that we've got our whole future ahead of us. Who cares about where we've been? We can only go forward from here."

"Together?" Oliver proposed, squeezing Katie's hands once more as his expression turned hopeful.

"Together," Katie agreed, giving him a small smile.

"Well then, Ms. Bell," Oliver said suddenly, a grin spreading across his features. "I believe I have something important to ask you."

"And what would that be, Mr. Wood?" Katie replied playfully.

"Would you care to accompany me on a date…er…sometime in the hopefully-near future at some, as-of-yet undetermined, location?" Oliver asked.

"That sounds like a solid plan to me," Katie said, still smiling. "As for some indefinite time in the future, how does right now work for you?"

"Right now?" Oliver repeated.

"Well, you have the day off, don't you?" Katie asked. "And my parents won't be back for a little while at least. And I do have to go back to Hogwarts tomorrow…"

"And how would you propose we occupy our time?" Oliver questioned swiftly.

"Well everything about the two of us always comes back to one thing, doesn't it?" Katie said.

"Just one thing?" Oliver replied. "And what might that be?"

"Why, Quidditch, of course," Katie stated with another smile.

"Best thing in the world," Oliver declared. "After you, of course."

"Of course," Katie agreed, her smile widening. "Anyway, it's been quite a while since I've been on a broom."

"Or outside at all, I'd wager," Oliver cut in.

"They really need to start making open-air hospitals," Katie said decisively. "I'm sure that would have fixed me up in no time at all."

"It still wouldn't be the same as flying," Oliver said. "Nothing can beat that."

"Not a thing," Katie agreed. "So, what do you say? I could use some help from a professional like you if I want any chance of getting put back on the Gryffindor team when I go back to Hogwarts."

"Quidditch it is, then."

Several long hours later, Katie and Oliver descended to the ground once more, both breathless from the exhilaration a good game of Quidditch could cause. Katie had just stepped off her broom and was about to throw it over her shoulder, in preparation for the walk back to her house from the empty field they were currently in, when Oliver suddenly pulled her into his arms. Katie melted easily into his embrace, her head coming to rest against his chest as the hand still clutching her broom dropped limply to her side.

"I really did worry you wouldn't ever wake up again," Oliver whispered softly, and Katie could feel him resting his head against hers, "And even if you did, that you'd never be the same again."

Katie tightened her embrace. "Remember, only forward, Oliver. We have each other now."

Oliver pulled back slightly, forcing Katie to look up to meet his gaze.

"That we do," He agreed, dipping his head lower so that his lips met her in a light kiss.

Once they had broken apart, Katie ducked her head back into Oliver's chest and clutched him even tighter.

"I don't want to go back tomorrow," She whispered. "I can't remember what happened and…I'm afraid, Oliver. I don't want to get hurt again."

Oliver sighed deeply. "I can't promise you that everything will be fine, Katie. But you won't know unless you try. Besides," Katie could hear the grin in his voice, even if she couldn't see it, "It's your last chance to win the Quidditch Cup. I'd say that's incentive enough."

"It really _is_ always about Quidditch, isn't it?" Katie couldn't help the grin that was starting to creep across her own face.

"Always," Oliver intoned seriously, and Katie knew he was only partially joking with her now. "And just think of it…I only won the Cup once, and you've already done it twice. Why not go for a third win to hold over my head forever?"

"I like the sound of that," Katie said thoughtfully. "But that's only if I get back on the team."

"You were brilliant today," Oliver stated, leaving no room for argument. "If Potter doesn't let you back on the team, I'm going to come straight to Hogwarts to wring his scrawny little neck."

"You're going to kill the Boy-Who-Lived?" Katie asked, humor evident in her tone.

"Only if he can't see reason," Oliver assured her.

"You really are a Quidditch fanatic," Katie said, shaking her head as she pulled out of his embrace. She slipped her hand into his and shouldered her broom, tugging his arm lightly. "Come on, let's head back. I'm starving."


	7. Early Summer, 1997

_Early Summer, 1997_

Oliver glanced dubiously at the tiny muggle café before him and then back down at the piece of parchment clutched in his hand once more. The addresses matched but…Katie really wanted to meet him _here_?

With a sigh that was equal parts defeat and acceptance, Oliver pocketed the day old note from Katie and walked up to the entrance. Pushing the door open, he tensed as he entered the unfamiliar muggle atmosphere. It was currently mid-afternoon and the place was dead; there didn't appear to be a single soul in sight. Then a small smile spread across Oliver's face.

Correction: the small booth in the farthest corner from the counter was occupied by one strikingly familiar brunette.

Abandoning his hesitation, he quickly made his way over to the booth and slid into the seat across from the girl. Katie looked up from the menu she had been examining with a smile.

"So I take it you've finally decided that you're in the correct place?" She asked him. "You've only been standing out there for a good ten minutes."

"It can't have been more than five," Oliver argued easily, leaning forward and pressing a quick kiss to her cheek before relaxing back into his seat again. "I was _definitely_ still in the locker room ten minutes ago, _attempting_ to escape my dear old captain's pre-match speech."

"Oh, you have a Quidditch captain who likes to give long, winding speeches about how well-equipped you are to defeat your opponents _days_ before you actually play the match?" Katie questioned ironically. "I had one of those once…"

"He sounds like a horrible bloke," Oliver informed her in a consoling manner.

"I don't know," Katie pretended to mull it over, "I rather liked him." She grinned then, "It's why I keep him around."

"I knew there had to be a reason you wanted to see me today!" Oliver declared.

"Well _obviously_ it wasn't because I missed you or anything," Katie replied. "That would be preposterous."

"Completely," Oliver agreed with a nod, his gaze drawn down to the menu. "And it's a shame about that, too, because clearly the only reason I agreed to meet you is because _I_ missed _you_."

A small smile crept across Katie's face as she resumed studying the menu. It was nice to be around Oliver again. Being with him was just so…easy, there really was no other way to describe it. They'd always gotten along well as friends and, now that they were actually together, that hadn't changed, which Katie had initially feared it might.

"So," Oliver began, drawing the single syllable out as he closed his menu decisively. "How have things been? It's been…what? Thirty-two hours since we last saw each other?"

"Thirty-three," Katie corrected absentmindedly, still perusing her menu. "I've been alright. I saw Leanne yesterday," She sighed here, finally looking up. "She isn't sure if her parents will let her go back to Hogwarts to finish her last year…now that Dumbledore is…gone."

Now it was Oliver's turn to sigh. "I still can't believe he's dead. It just doesn't seem…right, somehow. But McGonagall is in charge now, isn't she? She'll make sure the school stays open."

A sly grin spread across Katie's face at this. "Although I'm inclined to agree with you, I'm also pretty sure you're only saying that because you've been in love with her since you were eleven."

"Hardly," Oliver scoffed, appearing offended before continuing, "Only since I was twelve, thank you very much. When I was eleven she refused to let me try out for the Gryffindor team." He shook his head sadly, "Worst year of my life."

"You're completely ridiculous, Oliver," Katie said with a laugh. "But now that you've managed to bring up Quidditch twice in less than five minutes, I suppose I should tell you why I wanted you to meet me here."

"So it wasn't because you didn't miss me?" Oliver clarified.

"Hardly," Katie said, attempting and failing to imitate his accent.

"So you did miss me, then?" Oliver questioned.

"Of course I did," Katie told him. "You're much better company than my parents. Mum is still on edge about letting me out of her sight…unless I'm with you, of course. I swear, that woman worships the ground you walk on. Being named Rookie of the Year didn't help matters much."

"Maybe I _should_ convince you to run off with me," Oliver mused. "That might get her to stop liking me…and you'd be able to escape her."

Katie could not immediately respond because, at that precise moment, the waitress finally appeared to take their order.

"First of all," Katie began with a strange expression on her face, once the waitress had disappeared behind the counter again. "It's not really as if I mind spending time with my mum. It's just a bit annoying that she seems to think I can't take care of myself. And secondly, did you just attempt to propose to me?"

"W-What?" Oliver, who had just taken a sip of water, choked out, his eyes wide.

"You've thought about convincing me to run off with you," Katie reminded him.

"I…er…just to escape your mum!" Oliver finally managed to say.

Katie merely rose her eyebrows at him.

"It's true!" Oliver insisted. "I only just thought of it right now. And I only meant to escape your mum and how she'd be upset with me for taking you away from her and…and…I _never_ said anything about us getting married!"

"Oh, calm down, Oliver," Katie said calmly, a humorous expression on her face. "I know that. It's far too soon for us to think about getting married; give it a few months. Besides, I'm clearly just too excited about being signed on by the Harpies to think straight…which would probably explain why I enjoyed watching you squirm so much just now…" She finished thoughtfully.

Oliver was silent for about two seconds after Katie finished speaking before, "You got signed by the Harpies? You never told me they were scouting you!"

"That's because they weren't," Katie stated. "They came to the final match to see Ravenclaw's seeker, or so I'm told. You remember Cho Chang? Anyway, I guess they were impressed with my playing."

"Well I don't see how they couldn't be," Oliver commented in an offhand manner. "You were brilliant in that game."

"And how would you know that?" Katie asked him, slightly bemused. She continued as the waitress reappeared with their food, "Or are you just assuming based on past performances?"

"I saw it firsthand," Oliver said with a slight shrug, accepting his plate from the incredibly bored-looking waitress. "I was going to surprise you, but then I got cornered by McGonagall in the stands and…well, it really is quite nice to talk about Quidditch with her, even if it took forever to escape her. I would have told you that I was there, but I didn't want to take you away from your celebration with Gryffindor, no matter how much I wanted to see you. And then it just sort of slipped my mind to mention that I'd been there at all. But now it doesn't matter, because I'll just be sure to attend as many Harpies games as possible to make up for it and then we can celebrate together after all of your wins."

"I've only been offered a position as a reserve," Katie pointed out, choosing to be amused by Oliver's take on everything over disappointment at the long-since-missed opportunity to see him while at school.

"The management over in Holyhead is bound to rectify that mistake within a couple of practices," Oliver said optimistically.

Katie bit her lip then, her expression becoming guarded. "Oliver…" She began slowly, "Speaking of the management, there was something else I wanted to talk to you about."

"Yes?" Oliver questioned, noting her suddenly serious tone.

"I feel like we've been avoiding the subject for the past two months," She continued, still slightly hesitant. "But clearly we have a bit of an unspoken agreement about…well, about our relationship."

Oliver merely looked at her quizzically.

"And the publicity we've given it, or lack thereof, as it so happens," Katie clarified.

"Because I'm a famous Quidditch player," Oliver stated, finally catching on. He stated it as a matter of fact, not trying to sound conceited about it at all.

"Exactly," Katie said. "And even though I'm only going to be a reserve—for now, of course—I'm still going to be playing professionally, and in the same league as you. You know people are going to talk, and they're going to assume that our relationship is going to affect how we play. I just…I don't think we should tell anyone that we're dating. Or rather, not make it publicly known. Obviously our friends already know and our families. But I don't plan on sharing it with anyone remotely involved with the Harpies."

"I think that makes sense," Oliver agreed easily. "Actually, I haven't mentioned you to anyone at Puddlemere. Not because I'm trying to hide our relationship, but because it doesn't have anything to do with Quidditch. My personal life shouldn't interfere with my career."

"Except for that one time in Luxembourg," Katie contradicted with a small grin.

"I'll have you know that that ridiculously long match pretty much guaranteed that I'd be named Rookie of the Year," Oliver informed her, faking a pompous air. "Or so the Daily Prophet claims. Clearly that means I played excellently and wasn't distracted by anything at all for two straight weeks."

Katie let out a giggle. "Well, anyway, as long as we're agreed about how to handle our relationship."

"We won't tell a single soul," Oliver said decisively.

"Even when we get engaged in a few months," Katie agreed.

"_What?!_"

"I'm _kidding_, Oliver," Katie said, breaking into full-out laughter now. "Good grief, you really are distracted by all things Quidditch."

"Hmm…that's right," Oliver said, taking the time now to be thoughtful. "You did mention something about giving it a few months before talking about marriage right before you finally decided to tell me we're going to be rivals this season, didn't you?"

"And it took you this long to notice," Katie observed. "Maybe I _will_ be able to distract you and score a few goals when the Harpies play Puddlemere."

"I look forward to seeing you try."

Yes, being with Oliver _was_ easy. And Katie enjoyed every second of their time together. Even with the recent events of her final year at Hogwarts still fresh in her memory, she couldn't help but feel that things really were looking up.


	8. Late Summer, 1997

_Late Summer, 1997_

Several weeks later, Oliver was glad that he and Katie had an already-established meeting place outside of the magical world. But that didn't stop him from apparating to a point several blocks away from the muggle café and then walking there to meet Katie. The walk gave him time to establish that he hadn't been followed.

This time it was more difficult to find Katie, as they were meeting in the midst of what appeared to be the lunch rush. He managed to spot her within a few moments, though, and made his way through the crowd to the booth she was seated in, this time slipping into the seat beside her.

"You heard from Fred?" Oliver asked without preamble.

"Angie," Katie corrected, slipping her hand into his in the small space still separating them. "But she said she had it from the twins." She surreptitiously checked their surroundings. And, once she ascertained that no one in the busy establishment seemed to be paying the couple any attention, she lowered her voice and continued, "I can't believe the Ministry fell to the Death Eaters…"

"And they must have taken control of the _Prophet_ as well," Oliver said with a small sigh, slumping back into his seat, but squeezing Katie's hand in a comforting manner, "Because they haven't mentioned the takeover at all. They even had an article saying that Scrimgeour resigned."

"Have you…Did you see this morning's _Prophet_?" Katie asked slowly.

Oliver nodded. "Well, sort of, anyway. We had an emergency meeting with management today before my copy got delivered. But it was about that Muggleborn Registration Commission. Puddlemere's considering pulling out of the league until the War ends. They didn't exactly come out and say as much, but it'll be to protect any muggleborns involved with the team."

"I don't think there's going to be any Quidditch until this war ends; Holyhead has already pulled out," Katie stated. "There was a press release just this morning saying that the Harpies have suspended their season. They didn't give any reason for it, but I think people will figure it out easily enough."

"Is that why you're back from vacation early?" Oliver asked.

Having been recruited to the Holyhead Harpies with the completion of her schooling in late June, Katie had joined the team just before the start of their mid-summer break. With the time off, she had gone on a short vacation with her parents out of the country. She hadn't been due back for several more days, still, and Oliver had been surprised—but relieved—to receive her letter that morning.

Katie nodded. "We had a team meeting this morning, too, but I got back late last night. I bought a ticket for muggle transportation back to England as soon as I got Angie's letter, even before I heard from the management in Holyhead."

"Did your parents come back with you?" Oliver asked. He knew that Mr. and Mrs. Bell had been intending to travel for a bit longer while Katie got started with her training camp.

"No," Katie said shortly. "They…they aren't coming back."

A look of alarm spread across Oliver's face at this announcement. "Did something happen to them while you were away?"

"Oh, no!" Katie said swiftly. "They're both perfectly alright," she reassured him. "It's just…you know that my mum is muggleborn, right?"

Oliver frowned. Had he known that? Certainly he knew that Katie was half-blood and had been raised in both the muggle and magical worlds. But while he had known that her parents were a witch and wizard, he had never actually made the connection that one or both of them must not have been raised that way.

"And she wasn't very long out of Hogwarts when the First War broke out," Katie continued without waiting for a reply. "She's told me stories about what life was like for her back then. She once told me that she reckons she only survived because she had dad to keep her sane. And when I got the letter from Angie, both of them were hesitant to return to England. In fact, they decided not to."

"And they let you come back without them?" Oliver questioned, still frowning. He knew what Katie's parents had gone through in the past year, had sat by their sides practically every day in their daughter's hospital room. They wouldn't have let Katie out of their sight so easily if they knew the War had escalated.

"No, they didn't," Katie told him. She bit her lip before continuing, "I…well, I snuck out in the middle of the night. I made sure to leave a note telling them not to come after me." It was her turn to frown now, "I'm pretty sure they'll listen to it."

"Oh, Kates…" Oliver said with a sigh, releasing her hand so that he could wrap her in a hug. Katie immediately buried her head in his shoulder, gladly taking the comfort he offered.

"I just feel so lost, Oliver," Katie's voice was muffled as she spoke into his shirt. "Things shouldn't have come to this, but I won't sit idle while everyone I know fights. I joined D.A. for a reason, and I just want this war to end."

"We'll just have to take it one day at a time and we'll get through it," Oliver said firmly. "We'll start with today. Where are you staying?"

"Alicia and Angie's," Katie replied. "I couldn't go home. Not right away, anyway. I didn't apply for an emergency international portkey because now the Ministry doesn't have a record of me returning to the country. I'll go home after this to gather some things so that I can move in with Angie and Alicia."

Oliver frowned slightly, his expression otherwise thoughtful. "Do you have to move in with them?"

"Well I can hardly stay at home," Katie told him, finally shifting her head so that she was looking up at her boyfriend rather than speaking into his shoulder. "With me gone, the house will appear deserted if that ridiculous Commission sends people looking for mum."

"No," Oliver corrected himself, "I mean, does it have to be the two of them that you move in with?"

Katie's shrugged as much as she could with Oliver's arms still wrapped around her. "They offered the space to me. And I'd rather not get my own place, so that the Ministry can't happen across some record of where I live. I know they'll want to question me for mum's whereabouts."

"But…" Oliver began slowly, "What if…what if you moved in with me instead?"

Oliver couldn't look down at Katie as he felt her stiffen suddenly in his embrace. Instead, he kept his gaze focused on the empty seat across from them. Oliver would freely admit to himself that he was nervous about what her answer would be. This was definitely not where he had seen this conversation going when it began. Indeed, his offer to have Katie move in with him had been a rather spur of the moment thought. But he definitely couldn't help thinking how very much he wanted her to agree to his proposal.

"Do you really want me to?" Katie finally asked, her voice cautious.

"Yes," Oliver said immediately, finally looking back down at her. "I really do. You could have my spare room." He grinned suddenly, "I've been to Angelina and Alicia's flat…you'd be sleeping on the couch there."

"This is true," Katie allowed and Oliver saw that a lighthearted expression had come to her face for the first time during that day. "Having my own room would really be the main factor in moving in with you. We both know that I have plenty of other boyfriends willing to take me in."

"None of them are as good looking as I am, though," Oliver argued playfully. "So that's another thing I have going for me."

"This is also true," Katie agreed, a full-out grin spreading across her face now.

"So you'll do it, then?" Oliver asked hopefully. "You'll move in with me?"

"Why yes, Mr. Wood," Katie replied, "I do believe I will."

A matching grin appeared on Oliver's face at her words and he leaned down and captured her lips in a searing kiss.

Yes, the War was now in full swing and raging all around them, but they still had each other. But, as Oliver had already stated, they would get through it. They just needed to take it one day at a time. Together.


	9. Mid Spring, 1998: Part One

_Mid-Spring, 1998: Part One_

Katie did not like war. In fact, she was quite fed up with the one currently engulfing the wizarding world. Honestly, why was anyone even fighting? Because some people didn't have 'pure' enough blood? It was all completely bogus in her opinion.

Katie wanted to go back to enjoying life. She wanted to spend her evenings with Oliver comparing Quidditch tactics, not battle tactics. She wanted to be able to spend some quality time with her friends in public without the fear of a Death Eater attack looming over their heads. She wanted to see her parents again.

Really, she just wanted all of the fighting end.

And she knew she shouldn't complain. The worst thing that had happened directly to her so far had been that her job had been put on an indefinite hold and her parents were safely hiding somewhere outside of the country. Other people had it so much worse, but Katie couldn't help but feel frustrated. She felt like she should be doing more…but what more could be done? She was already doing volunteer shifts at St. Mungo's pretty much all day. And she had gone on several missions with the twins before things had gotten so bad that nearly everyone had been forced underground. Now it was mostly Death Eaters and snatchers out there, roaming free, terrorizing innocent people.

And it was killing Katie that she couldn't get out there and do something more to help.

In fact, there was only one person who Katie could think of who was still out there, presumably fighting the fight. And that was Harry.

Harry, who was pretty much the entire reason this whole thing was dragging on for as long as it had. Not that Katie was blaming him for the mess they were all in. Not at all. It was just that for as long as Harry was out there, then He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named would be hunting him. The war would continue as long as both of them were still alive, of that much she was certain.

Obviously, Katie was rooting for Harry. If he ever surfaced again, that was.

She had heard from the twins that Harry had been at their oldest brother's wedding back in August, and he had escaped with Hermione Granger and their brother Ron when the Death Eaters arrived after taking over the Ministry of Magic. And then there had been a sighting of him at the Ministry almost exactly a month later, at the beginning of September. For the life of her, Katie couldn't imagine what Harry, Ron, and Hermione had hoped to accomplish by attempting to infiltrate the Ministry of Magic on their own. But then again, that particular trio had always been getting into weird stuff back at school, though not always to the best results.

But that didn't mean she wasn't surprised when, in December, she read about Bathilda Bagshot's death in the _Daily Prophet_ and what the Ministry's official stance on the matter was. Apparently, her death was discovered under 'suspicious circumstances'—whatever that meant—but, more importantly, she had been discovered dead in her home in Godric's Hollow. Yes, the very same Godric's Hollow that was one Harry Potter's birthplace, which someone translated into Harry being blamed for the elderly historian's death. Katie knew it must be a ploy by the Death Eaters running the Ministry, as no definitive evidence tying Harry to her death had been presented, as far as she knew.

Yet another crime they were trying to pin on him…

The next word Katie had heard of Harry was a very brief sighting around Easter at the home of Luna Lovegood. Now Katie could only assume that Harry was still on the run and hoped that he kept himself safe and hidden until such time as he was ready to defeat You-Know-You once and for all.

But the point remained: Katie felt incredibly useless. For as much as she didn't understand what in Merlin's name Harry and his friends were getting up to, she could at least tell that they were attempting to do _something_, and something was an awful lot more than the nothing she was currently occupying herself with.

Katie sighed heavily as she stared unseeingly into the empty fireplace, her legs pulled up to her chest with her arms wrapped around them and her chin resting atop her knees. She had been sitting like this for the better part of the afternoon, since arriving home early from her volunteer shift, in fact. By the shadows crossing the floor, she guessed it was probably about six o'clock by now.

Katie was brought suddenly out of her reverie by the sound of a key in the front door. However, she did little more than tilt her head so that it was resting on her knees now, facing the front door, waiting. Soon enough, the door opened and Oliver entered, two large bags of what appeared to be groceries in his arms. Oliver had been headed straight for the kitchen but stopped dead when he saw Katie seated on the couch. He frowned momentarily before speaking.

"When was the first time I ever called you 'Katie' rather than 'Bell?'" Oliver questioned, eyes narrowed.

Another sigh, barely audible this time, passed Katie's lips. Security questions. She hated having to make sure of someone's identity before letting them in her home. She was sick of it; sick of so many things having to do with this war.

"My fourth year," Katie replied, before Oliver could get ahead of himself and worry that she wasn't really Katie and was in fact a Death Eater in disguise, apparently out to get out-of-work Quidditch players. "Your seventh. When I stopped you from drowning yourself in the locker room shower after we lost our first match of the year. After I yelled at you for setting a bad example as the captain all you said was 'Thank you, Katie,' and then you let me bring you back up to the castle."

A smile spread across Oliver's face momentarily at the memory before settling back into a frown. "Why didn't you stop me at the door? You know it's not safe."

"Who else would bother with a key?" Katie asked listlessly, turning her attention back to the cold fire grate.

Because she was no longer looking at him, Katie didn't see the look of concern that passed across Oliver's face. All she heard was him walk away, in the direction of the kitchen, his footsteps hurried. And then suddenly he had returned and planted himself firmly on the couch beside Katie. When he tentatively wrapped an arm around her, she couldn't help but melt into his embrace, realizing for the first time that she was rather chilled.

"What's wrong, Kates?" Oliver asked, wrapping his other arm around her as well now, firmly securing her in his warm embrace.

"Nothing," Katie answered automatically, which Oliver scoffed at.

"I think I know you a little better than that," Oliver told her, and Katie realized, much to her chagrin, that he sounded slightly hurt by her response. "Did something happen at St. Mungo's? I thought you weren't supposed to be home 'til later."

"They told me to come home early," Katie replied. "Ordered, more like, actually. Apparently I look like I could use some rest."

"You have been there rather a lot, lately," Oliver said carefully, worried it would upset her.

But Katie simply didn't have the energy to be angry, although there were feeble stirrings. Hadn't she already established (only to herself, admittedly) that she _wasn't_ doing enough to help with the war effort? And so it was those feelings she voiced.

"Not often enough," Katie informed her boyfriend. "I feel like I'm barely doing anything."

"Things will get better—" Oliver began, but Katie cut him off abruptly.

"Not while there's still a war going on!" She said, mustering as much heat as she could, but admitting silently to herself that it was nowhere near as passionate as she had once been about a great many things. She was just so tired of just about everything.

"I'm sure it'll be over soon," Oliver said, as much to console himself as Katie.

"It had better be," Katie muttered. "Because I'm sick of it. I hate it. I hate having to watch over my shoulder every time I go out, and not being able to contact my parents, in case it somehow gets traced. And I want to see my friends and be able to go out flying. I just want my life back, Oliver!"

Oliver didn't immediately respond, and Katie was suddenly worried that she had scared him. She really shouldn't keep her feelings bottled up so much…Her fears were quickly relieved, however, when Oliver finally spoke.

"I could tell that things have been difficult for you lately," He said, tightening his hold on her and pulling her into a closer hug. "It's been hard on all of us, but at least I get to see my parents, on occasion. And, well, I guess I should tell you that I had a surprise for you tonight, to try and make you feel better, but I was counting on you not being here so that I could set things up."

"Sorry," Katie murmured, her bad mood lifting marginally at the news that Oliver had been planning something special just for _her_ because he had noticed how down she was. He really was too good to her sometimes.

"It's not your fault," Oliver said easily, shifting his head so that he could press a swift kiss to the top of her head, which had been nestled into his shoulder. "We all know I would have ruined dinner anyway. Now you can help me and we'll get to spend even more time together."

Katie couldn't help but smile at this. Just being around Oliver right now was already doing wonders for her. Merlin, she loved him.

"Well, what exactly did you have in mind?"


	10. Mid Spring, 1998: Part Two

_Mid-Spring, 1998: Part Two_

A little more than an hour later found Katie putting the finishing touches on their dinner, while Oliver had disappeared into the living room with the express instruction that Katie wasn't allowed to leave the kitchen until he told her so—had strong-willed Angelina been there, Katie was sure the other woman would have had a few choice words for Oliver after saying that, but Katie understood what he had really meant.

"Are you ready yet, Ol?" Katie called out, finally. "Dinner's ready!" Allowing a grin to creep across her face, she continued teasingly, "What are you doing out there anyway? I thought you said we were going to be spending time _together_, not shouting across the apartment in order to have a simple conversation."

"All ready," Oliver stated, suddenly appearing in the doorway, wand in hand. With a flick he sent the assorted dishes Katie had laid out on the table floating past him and into the living room.

"I assume tonight isn't a night for eating at the table, then?" Katie questioned, one eyebrow raised.

"You assume correctly," Oliver replied with a slight grin, before crossing the room to Katie in three long strides. He held out a hand, "If I could have the honor, Ms. Bell?"

"You may, Mr. Wood," Katie informed him with an answering grin, placing her hand in his larger one.

To her slight surprise, Oliver pulled her straight up to him and into a sweet kiss, before releasing her just as abruptly and repositioning them so that he was standing behind her, his hands now covering her eyes.

"I still do have a surprise for you," Oliver whispered in her ear, his warm breath on her neck making Katie shiver.

"Lead the way, Mr. Wood," Katie said, noting to herself that she sounded just the slightest bit breathless.

She was quite sure Oliver noticed as well, but he said nothing as he led her from the kitchen and into the living room that she had earlier been banned from entering. When they came to a stop, Katie felt a sudden heat to her right and decided that Oliver must have decided to light a fire. She smiled slightly under his hands; dinner in front of the fire would be rather nice.

Oliver finally dropped his hands from her face, and once her eyes had adjusted to the dim lighting, Katie let out an involuntary gasp of surprise. Oliver had pushed the furniture that was usually in front of the fireplace out of the way and spread out a large blanket on the floor, with several pillows lining the edge; the food had settled itself in the middle of the blanket. In addition to the fire in the grate, there were candles on the mantle and the coffee table.

Oliver had set up a picnic for her. Katie loved picnics. Forget nice, this was the most romantic thing Oliver had done for her in ages. Not that she was complaining, of course: they _were_ in the middle of a war, after all. A full-fledged smile—her first in quite some time—quickly spread across her face. This was just the thing to take her mind off of things for a short while.

When Oliver had dropped his hands from covering her face, they had settled at her waist. Katie now spun around in his embrace and threw her arms around him, settling her head in the crook of his neck.

"It's perfect, Ol. I love it," Katie stated, and now she had the satisfaction of feeling him shiver slightly as her breath tickled the exposed skin of his neck next to her mouth. "This is a wonderful surprise."

"I'm glad you like it," Oliver said softly.

As he spoke, Katie felt him relax slightly. Hidden from his gaze, she couldn't help as her smile widened slightly. Silly, nervous boy, worried she wouldn't like something he'd obviously put some thought into. Now she almost regretted letting herself be talked into leaving the hospital early today; this would have been a lovely surprise to return home to after a long day. But she wouldn't waste time worrying about that; she'd gotten to spend more time with Oliver, after all. Plus, she'd get to eat an edible meal—the poor man really couldn't cook to save his life.

Oliver quickly settled into the cushions, pulling Katie along beside him. He quickly served each of them generous portions of the meal Katie had prepared before handing her plate to her and sitting back to eat his own meal.

In between bites of food, the pair casually discussed how their days had been and what they had done. Halfway through a story about a pair of five-year-old's who had gotten into a stash of Fizzing Whizbees and eaten them all to disastrous, but slightly amusing, effects—honestly the only highlight of her otherwise bleak day volunteering in the hospital that was over-run with war victims—when she suddenly realized that she seemed to be the only one contributing to the conversation. Indeed, he appeared increasingly distracted as the conversation went on.

"Is something wrong, Oliver?" Katie asked suddenly, cutting herself off in the middle of a sentence.

"Huh?" Forget distracted, Oliver clearly hadn't been paying attention at all. At the sound of his name, Oliver—whose face had gotten a rather glaze-over look as he watched Katie speak—refocused his gaze and, for some reason that Katie couldn't figure out, pulled his hand out of his pocket as if something had burned him.

"Are you alright?" Katie asked him, genuinely concerned now.

"Er…yeah," Oliver replied, looking completely lost now.

"Well…if you're sure," Katie said, choosing to drop the subject and move on. Oliver had probably just zoned out because he was tired or something. He'd probably just had a long day doing…whatever it was that he'd spent his day doing.

"So," Katie began suddenly, completely switching gears, "We've talked enough about me for now, what did _you_ do today? I mean, I know I got home early, but I wasn't expecting you to be gone when I got back."

"Oh…er…just some…stuff," Oliver finished rather lamely. "For this…er…thing I'm…working on."

Katie rose an eyebrow at him, though there was a hint of teasing in her tone. "Keeping secrets now, are we? Maybe I should have asked you a security question when you came in earlier…"

"No, it's just…it wasn't very interesting," Oliver replied with a shrug, though Katie noticed he didn't quite meet her eyes when he said that. What was going on with him? He'd been fine before they sat down to eat, or at least she thought he'd been fine…

"I have dessert," Oliver said suddenly.

"What kind of dessert?" Katie asked, putting aside her suspicions for now. She'd bring the conversation back to his day soon enough. And then she would get some real answers. After all, Katie Bell was nothing if not determined.

"The good kind," was all Oliver answered with.

"You're being incredibly vague today, Oliver," Katie said with a roll of her eyes. "I'd almost think you were trying to hide something from me."

Oliver's eyes widened in alarm. "Why would you think that?"

"I was kidding," Katie replied slowly, giving him another look and wondering if she actually should be suspicious of her boyfriend right now. She paused momentarily before continuing, "_Are_ you hiding something from me?"

"No," Oliver scoffed, which, for obvious reasons, made Katie not want to believe him at all. "So, dessert?"

Oliver was definitely hiding something, of that much Katie was certain. And, naturally, her mind jumped to the conclusion that it was something bad, very bad. He'd probably done something reckless and foolish today that had to do with whatever resistance forces were still out there. But now he obviously didn't want to tell her about it because he was trying to get her mind off of the war. If that was the case, Katie couldn't help but think that Oliver really was being incredibly sweet tonight. She really should just let the matter drop…until tomorrow, at the very least.

"Dessert sounds lovely," Katie told him with a smile.

"I'll be right back," Oliver told her with an answering grin, hopping to his feet and walking quickly to the kitchen.

Still smiling, Katie settled back into the cushions. Oliver really was all sorts of wonderful.

"You never finished your story about those two kids!" Oliver called from the kitchen, where Katie could hear him opening and closing cabinets. "What happened?"

"There wasn't really much more to it," Katie called back with a shrug that Oliver couldn't see. "We got them to stay down from the ceiling eventua—What is _that_?"

Oliver had returned, but he was now holding the most delicious-looking creation she had ever seen.

"It's a cake," Oliver said simply, settling back on the ground and placing the cake in between himself and Katie. As he handed her a fork, Katie couldn't help but notice that he looked incredibly pleased with himself. "Also, I baked it."

"I think I'm in love," Katie admitted, after taking a bite of what could only be described as chocolate deliciousness. Since when did Oliver bake? And why in Merlin's name hadn't it happened sooner? She was really going to have to keep him around…

"So you were only kidding all those other times you told me you loved me?" Oliver teased.

"You want something, don't you?" Katie asked jokingly. "That's why you did all of this," At which point she very generally indicated the entire room.

"Funny you should mention wanting something…" Oliver began slowly after only the briefest hesitation, absentmindedly twirling his own fork in his fingers.

"I knew it," Katie muttered, though there was a wry grin still on her face. "What is it?"

"Well…" Oliver said, drawing the single syllable out. He suddenly looked rather nervous. "I want to give you something. And I want you to always wear it."

He reached into his pocket then—the same pocket he'd had his hand jammed in earlier, Katie noticed—and, at the sight of the small black box he withdrew, Katie was quite sure her heart stopped beating. Out of everything that had happened tonight, she had definitely not seen this coming…

"Will you marry me, Katie?"


	11. Mid Spring, 1998: Part Three

_Mid-Spring, 1998: Part Three_

Katie had never really held much stock in the reliability of the reporting for the _Daily Prophet_. Their bias and the fact that someone was clearly pulling the strings behind the scenes became even more obvious with the start of the Second War and the Ministry takeover. However, Katie found that there was always some glimmer of truth to be found in the paper's articles—generally a few words or phrases here and there or, on a good day, even an entire sentence. Really, the general rule of thumb when it came to the _Prophet_ was that they reported the exact opposite of the truth.

Which was why Katie had absolutely no idea what to think as she sat in her empty flat reading the _Evening Prophet_ on the first of May. She had never trusted their reporting, but they couldn't be serious about this story…

Sadly, before Katie could dwell any more on the particular article she was reading, she was interrupted by the sound of incessant knocking on the front door.

"Finally," Katie muttered to herself, standing up from the couch and dropping the newspaper onto the coffee table in front of the cold and empty fireplace.

Wand in hand, Katie peeked through the peephole, though she knew exactly who would be on the other side.

"He's that tall, good-looking one, isn't he?" Katie asked through the door, her tone distracted as her thoughts were still with the article she had been reading moments before.

"Strong and silent," came the reply, a chorus of two voices.

Unlocking the door, Katie slipped her wand back into her pocket and wrenched the door open.

"Have you seen this evening's _Prophet_?" She demanded by way of greeting.

"It's lovely to see you too, Katie," Alicia Spinnet said happily, throwing her arms around Katie and squeezing her in a limb-shattering embrace. "It's been far too long!"

"It was really nice of you to invite us to venture from within the safety of our warded apartment to come visit you," Angelina Johnson agreed with a smile, giving Katie a hug as well once Alicia had released her. "And by 'invite' I obviously mean 'demand.'"

"Sorry," Katie said, looking slightly abashed. "It is wonderful to see both of you; I'm so glad you could both make it on such short notice. But seriously, have you seen the _Prophet_?"

"Well, never let it be said that Katie Bell can't have a one-track mind when she wants," Angelina said with an amused shake of her head.

"What rubbish are they reporting now?" Alicia asked as Katie ushered them both into the flat and secured the door behind them. "I read it this morning and I didn't think there was anything incredibly drastic in it, other than the usual nonsense they've been reporting. I would have read the Evening edition, but _someone_ set the kitchen on fire."

She looked pointedly at Angelina as she spoke.

"I told you we should have replaced that stove ages ago," Angelina insisted and Katie couldn't help but roll her eyes in amusement at her friends' quarrel.

"I don't even know what to say about it," Katie admitted, redirecting their conversation back to the evening edition of the newspaper before they got too off-topic. They had reached the living room by now and while Angelina and Alicia each took a seat on the couch, Katie picked up the newspaper from where she had discarded it only moments previously and showed them the front page. "Just look at this."

"Is that…?" Angelina asked, trailing off in astonishment.

"A dragon?!" Alicia exclaimed. "And what's that headline say about Gringotts?"

"Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger broke _out_ of Gringotts earlier today," Katie informed her two friends. "On a _dragon_."

"Were they _trying_ to get noticed?" Alicia demanded.

"Who knows with those three?" Angelina said with a roll of her eyes, though there was a certain hint of fondness in her tone. Then her attention refocused on Katie. "But never mind all that. This isn't why you asked us here, Katie; you sent your owl earlier this afternoon, long before the _Evening Prophet_ came out."

"Ah…yes," Katie said slowly, taking a deep breath to calm herself even as she began pacing in front of where two of her best friends sat on the couch. "I mean, no. You're right, that's not why I needed you two to come over. I just got a bit distracted by the paper, that's all."

"Katie," Angelina said suddenly, reaching a hand out and latching onto Katie's hand as she passed by, forcing the other girl to stop walking. "Just spit it out. What happened? Is something wrong?"

"Is it Oliver?" Alicia jumped in. "Is that why he's not here? Did something happen to him?"

"Oliver's fine," Katie said shortly. "He's at his parents', that's all."

"But something _did_ happen?" Angelina pressed, concern written clearly across her features. "Katie…what is it?"

Katie closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

"Oliver asked me to marry him."

The room was silent for a moment. And then…

"Katie!" Alicia shrieked, pulling Katie onto the couch in between her and Angelina and then proceeding the squeeze the living daylights out of the smaller girl. "This is so exciting!"

"You couldn't have just started with that right off the bat?" Angelina asked, joining in on the hug as it didn't appear as if Alicia would be letting go any time soon. "You were making it sound as if somebody died!"

"No deaths tonight!" Alicia said in a sing-song voice, "Katie and Oliver are getting _married_!"

"Er…Angie? 'Leesh?" Katie spoke up now, "I can't really breathe…"

Immediately both Angelina and Alicia released their holds on Katie, and resumed their previous sitting positions, though both were still sporting massive grins.

"I'm just so happy for you—for both of you," Alicia stated, clapping her hands together giddily. "You're going to marry Oliver! I always knew this day would come."

Angelina, meanwhile, was studying Katie intently.

"Wait a minute," Angelina said, almost before Alicia had finished speaking. "You only said that Oliver asked you to marry him. You never said what your answer was."

Alicia's eyes widened in alarm now. "What did you say, Katie? What did you tell him?!"

"Well she said 'yes' of course," A voice spoke from behind the trio.

As one, they all turned to see Oliver standing there, apparently returned from his parents' house. He, too, had a massive grin stretched across his face, and Katie could feel an answering grin spreading across her own features at the sight of him.

"Way to make me nervous for no reason," Alicia said, reaching around Katie now and punching Angelina lightly in the shoulder.

Angelina, for her part, studiously ignored her oldest friend and kept her attention on her former captain. "Congratulations, Oliver. And you, too, Katie."

"Thanks, Angie," Katie replied, still smiling widely. "And sorry about before, I didn't mean to make you worry; I was just a bit distracted with the anticipation of Alicia screaming."

Alicia frowned playfully. "Rude. I'm going to pick out the most horrid wedding present I can find now, just you watch."

"Better than trying to help plan the wedding and picking out absolutely horrid decorations," Angelina said with a teasing grin.

The conversation quickly turned to plans for the wedding, which Oliver took as his cue to leave the room as quickly as possible, though his wide grin was still firmly in place. He made his way into the kitchen and was about to look through the cabinets, in search of any food he could find, when he spotted a lone galleon lying out on the counter. With a shrug, Oliver picked it up and was about to pocket it, when he noticed that it was unusually warm…even warmer than it would be if someone had just been holding it, which he knew wasn't the case.

"Hey, Katie?" Oliver called, retracing his footsteps back out of the kitchen, his gaze now firmly locked on the odd coin in his hand. "Is this yours?"

Katie, Alicia, and Angelina all turned around on the couch so that they were looking at Oliver as he held up the galleon.

"Er…sure?" Katie offered with a shrug. "Where'd you find it?"

"It was on the counter in the kitchen," Oliver replied, still frowning slightly at the coin. "It's really hot…"

A sudden look of understanding passed across Katie's face, and she was on her feet in a flash. "That's my D.A. coin. I found it earlier and put it in my pocket, and then I almost paid for the _Evening Prophet_ with it. But it should only be warm if…"

By this point, Katie had reached Oliver and plucked the coin from his fingers. Now with her own small frown, she studied the face of the coin intently for a moment before looking back up and scanning the three faces staring at her.

"We need to go to Hogwarts."


	12. Late Spring, 1998

_Late Spring, 1998_

Excitement. Sadness. Anger.

Katie was currently feeling all of those emotions. And it was all thanks to the rather lengthy piece of parchment she'd received just after lunch that day. It was now more than two hours later, and Katie was still seated at the kitchen table, simply staring at the piece of parchment, the emotions raging in her head.

She suddenly let out a sigh of frustration, her lips creasing into a frown. She had been waiting for this letter for several days now, anxious to see what it would say. Now that she had it, she almost wished it had never come. Almost. Because it wasn't that she objected to what it said. No, the contents of the letter had overjoyed her immensely.

Until she took the briefest of moments to think about _why_ the letter said what it did. And then she was overcome with grief. Grief that turned into angry quickly enough. It was never really going to be over. She would always have to live with constant reminders of the war, which had been declared officially over in recent weeks. But it was never really going to be over, was it?

"Katie?" At the sudden sound of her name, Katie looked up in surprise to see Oliver standing next to her, dressed in his Quidditch gear.

"Oliver?" Katie replied, confused. "What are you doing home so soon?"

"I've been gone for five hours…" Oliver said slowly, a look of concern crossing his features as he slid into the seat next to hers.

"Oh…" Katie said now, glancing at the clock and realizing for the first time just how long she'd been sitting there staring at her letter. "I guess I just lost track of time." Then the smallest of smiles crossed her features as her gaze returned to Oliver, "Did Puddlemere's locker rooms deteriorate in the long off-season?"

"Huh?" Now it was Oliver's turn to look confused.

Katie merely looked at her fiancé pointedly, her eyes scanning his entire form, causing Oliver to look down at himself. A look of understanding finally crossed his features once he had done so.

"Nah," Oliver said, "Like I said, I was gone for _five_ whole hours. I can't even remember when the last time was we spent that much time apart. I couldn't wait to get out of that place."

"So what you're telling me," Katie began slowly, "Is that you basically missed me so much you decided to come home from training without changing _or_ showering?"

"Yes," Oliver said with a succinct nod.

"You're disgusting," Katie informed him with a grin. "But also incredibly sweet."

"Plus," Oliver continued, a grin of his own crossing his features now, "I thought I might be able to find better company to shower with here than back in the locker room."

"You might," Katie allowed.

"But before I go search out the cat," Oliver said, causing Katie to smack him over the head with a laugh, "Is everything alright with you?"

The laughter slowly faded from Katie's face. "Why would you ask that?"

"Because I called out that I was home when I walked in the door," Oliver replied, a look of concern appearing on his face now. "And then I kept calling your name, but you didn't notice I was back until I was literally standing right next to you." He nodded his head at the parchment sitting on the table before her, "What's been distracting you?"

Katie sighed heavily, her gaze turning to her letter once more. "I've finally heard from the Harpies."

Oliver waited patiently for her to continue. He'd gotten a letter from the management of Puddlemere United just two days previously informing him of the recommencement of Quidditch, now that the war had ended. Today had been the first day of training, with his first match scheduled to be held in another two weeks. He knew that Katie had anxiously been awaiting her own letter from the Holyhead Harpies, tired of having nothing to occupy her time with.

"They've offered me a position as a starting Chaser," Katie said, an unreadable expression upon her face as she continued to stare at her letter.

"And this upset you…?" Oliver asked hesitantly.

"No," Katie said immediately, her gaze jerking back to Oliver. "I'm _thrilled_. Playing Quidditch professionally is what I've always wanted, you know that. It's just…I was barely a reserve last year before the season got cancelled. And…Ol, we both know there's only one reason they'd offer to make me a starter now. No one was going to be retiring at the end of the last season."

Now Oliver finally understood what had upset Katie. Just this morning, he'd experience some trepidation upon arriving at Puddelmere's stadium. He had known there would be at least one new face there; not everyone had been fortunate enough to survive the war.

"Do you know…" Oliver began softly, scooting his chair closer to Katie so that he could wrap an arm around her shoulder comfortingly, "Do you know who you're…replacing?"

Katie shook her head. "I expect I'll find out tomorrow."

"Well, I can tell you that I know that, even under the circumstances, being able to play again will be a good distraction," Oliver told her firmly. "From _everything_ that's going on right now," He continued, thinking now of the friends they'd lost in the war, "And it'll all get better as time passes, you'll see."

Katie gave him a small smile. "I love you, Oliver."

"And I love you," Oliver replied, "Even more than the cat."

Katie couldn't help but giggle at this, but she quickly schooled her features into a serious expression once more. "There was actually something else that I want to talk to you about, too…"

"You still want to marry me, right?" Oliver asked her suspiciously.

"Of course I do," Katie answered with a roll of her eyes.

"Alright then," Oliver said with a happy shrug. "What d'you want to talk about?"

"Us," Katie said simply. At the re-emergence of Oliver's suspicious expression she continued, "Us in terms of our careers."

A knowing look appeared on Oliver's face now.

"I have a feeling I know where you're going with this," He said.

"You remember what we talked about last June, then?" Katie asked. "You agree that we're still not going to tell anyone at work about our relationship?"

"I still feel the same way about it now that I did then," Oliver said with another shrug. "_We_ know it's not going to affect how we play; it'll only annoy us when everyone else starts speculating. Besides," He grinned now, "I do believe you made me agree back then that we still wouldn't tell anyone even when we did get engaged."

Katie giggled again. "I'd forgotten about that. Of course, I do seem to recall that _you_ were the one who didn't think we'd be engaged within a few months of that conversation."

"I beg to differ," Oliver retorted, overly serious now, "_You_, Miss Bell, were the one who said she was joking back then. Obviously I only reacted the way I did because I thought you'd figured out my top secret plan to propose to you on the eve of the final battle of a war that wasn't yet full-blown."

"_Obviously_," Katie agreed sarcastically. "Because Oliver Wood has a strategy for everything, doesn't he?"

"That sounds about right," Oliver said with a nod. "And speaking of strategies…have I mentioned yet about how I strategically came straight home to you after practice?"

And with a smile, Katie grabbed Oliver's hand as she stood from her seat and practically dragged him out of the kitchen.


	13. Early Summer, 1998

_Early Summer, 1998_

"Can you remind me, again, why we decided that getting married was a good idea?" Katie asked, throwing her quill down with a look of extreme distaste.

"Is that a trick question?" Oliver questioned, picking up the abandoned writing utensil that had clearly offended his fiancée and twirling it with his fingers. "It's because we love each other."

"No, I mean why did we decided to have a _wedding_?" Katie said. "We should have just eloped the second you proposed; it would have solved us so much trouble now."

"Oh, well in that case," Oliver began, "It was because I'd already told my mum I was proposing, and she literally would have killed me if she wasn't invited to the wedding and if we'd brought her along when we eloped not only would it have been incredibly awkward, but then _your_ mum would have been offended when she found out that _she_ wasn't invited."

"And Merlin forbid you ever did something to get on my mother's bad side," Katie said, though she was smiling now.

"I'm not even sure that's possible," Oliver replied honestly.

"But seriously," Katie said suddenly, "After this wedding, let's never get married again. It's just too much work."

"I'm okay with that," Oliver told her. "After I marry you, I promise I'll never get married again, and I'll make sure to keep you from getting married again, too."

"Clearly this is one of the many reasons I love you," Katie informed him.

It was now mid-June and Katie and Oliver had both been busy with their respective Quidditch teams—the Holyhead Harpies were currently undefeated and in first place, while Puddlemere United was in a tie for second. With all of the training they'd been doing, planning their wedding had slipped to the back of their minds. But on this particular night, both Katie and Oliver were home at the same time, for once, and had decided to get some planning out of the way. Finally.

Needless to say, it was proving to be far more stressful than either had anticipated. It also didn't help that both of them would like to do nothing more than curl up and go to sleep for about fifteen hours after a long day of training.

"We're never going to find a date that works for both of us," Katie said now with a shake of her head. There was a calendar spread on the kitchen table between her and Oliver, who also had a blank sheaf of parchment before him, quill at the ready to begin writing down…well, whatever it was that needed to be written down when one was planning a wedding. Clearly he had only ended up with the responsibility because of Katie's aforementioned disgust with the quill.

"I think we'll manage to find something that works," Oliver said thoughtfully, examining the calendar now. "I was thinking winter."

Katie merely stared at him for a moment, her expression unreadable. Then she pursed her lips in a frown.

"Have you changed your mind?" She asked after the moment of silence.

"What?" Oliver asked, looking up with a confused expression. "Changed my mind about what?"

"Marrying me," Katie replied evenly.

Oliver's eyes widened. "No!" He said hurriedly. "Why would you think _that_?"

"Because winter is awfully far away," Katie replied easily, as if this was the most obvious explanation in the world. "I was thinking we should get married by the beginning of August, at the very _latest_. After all, there's no time like the present. It's already June; why wait 'til December and the off-season if we don't have to?"

Now it was Oliver's turn to stare at her. Then he broke out into a wide grin.

"And this is why _I_ love _you_," He informed her. Then, "But there's still the problem of _both_ of us needing to be at the ceremony; our schedules really don't go very well together. I almost think the Professional Quidditch League is plotting to not let us get married because we're keeping them in the dark."

"Maybe not…" Katie said slowly, pulling the calendar closer to herself as she caught sight of a date that Oliver had circled several times in red ink ages ago. She pointed to it.

"That's the World Cup Final," Oliver told her. Then his eyes lit up. "Oh! The World Cup Final!"

Katie grinned. "Exactly. We have a definite five day break for the Final, so we know we're both free. And England hosted last time; they won't again for ages, so it isn't exactly going to be local."

"And it's not as if any team either of us would cheer for is going to be in it," Oliver reasoned. "England never had a chance, what with the war. And don't even get me started on Scotland…"

"Monday, August twenty-fourth it is, then," Katie stated happily.

"Well," Oliver said as he wrote the date on the parchment, "I guess that's a new reason to like Mondays."

"_Please_, as if _you_ ever had a problem waking up early," Katie teased him. Then she frowned. "Ugh…I guess the next thing we have to do is come up with a guest list."

"Well…" Oliver said again, drawing the word out this time, "I suppose our parents, plus other family. And if we want to keep it small…who else do _we_ want there?"

"Not that I ever really wanted a big wedding," Katie began, "But I feel like keeping it small is going to be another headache."

Oliver nodded his agreement. "Our parents are going to demand an explanation for every name we put on that guest list, since we're obviously not going to be inviting every single person they might want to."

"We'll start simple, then," Katie said resolutely. "Angie and Alicia."

Oliver nodded his agreement immediately, writing the two names down. For most of Katie's time on the Gryffindor team, Angelina Johnson and Alicia Spinnet had been her partners. The three girls practically shared one mind on the Quidditch field. Plus, although the two girls were a year older, they had quickly become Katie's best friends; that would never change.

"Percy," Oliver said then.

"Weasley?" Katie questioned, mildly surprised.

Oliver nodded. "We've always been good friends."

"Alright," Katie said with a shrug. She actually hadn't thought the two boys were particularly close while at school, but chose not to question Oliver. If he said they were friends, then she believed him; she knew living with someone for seven years could do that, no matter how pompous of an appearance someone might put on.

What Katie didn't know and what Oliver would probably never tell her was that, while he and Percy had been close during their Hogwarts days, he had felt rather bad for the other man when they had run into each other again after going their separate ways with the end of their schooling. Oliver had long been used to listening to Percy go on about all of his views on just about everything that came to mind, so it was easy for him to ignore the other man's narrow-minded views on the Ministry at the time when he found out that Percy was no longer on speaking terms with the rest of the Weasley family. Even if all that rekindling their friendship meant was meeting up for drinks every so often and talking about Percy's work, Oliver felt that the other man needed _some_ kind of contact with the world outside of the Ministry. Especially after that, the pair would always remain close friends, of this Oliver was certain.

"Leanne," Katie said, once she saw that Oliver had finished writing. She was as easy a person to justify as Angie and Alicia; Leanne had been Katie's best friend at Hogwarts even before those two. She had always been there for Katie and Katie would always be there for her. Katie couldn't imagine her wedding day without Leanne.

"George," Oliver spoke now. He, too, was a member of Oliver and Katie's longtime Gryffindor team and, more importantly, their good friend. They never would have considered the thought of _not_ inviting him, even though it went without saying that they knew George would probably have a difficult time reuniting with the old gang so shortly after his twin's death. But, then again, maybe having the old gang around would help him to get his mind off of things for a bit.

"And Lee, too," Katie agreed, attempting to think of any more close friends from their Hogwarts days. "What about…Harry…?"

Oliver paused in his writing now. Yes, Oliver had been Harry's captain for three straight years, with the third being the year Harry won the Quidditch Cup for Oliver, when all was technically said and done. And yes, Katie had been on the team with him for six years—though that sixth year was a bit of a stretch. But Katie and Oliver hadn't really been friends with him, per se. While the other six members of the team had spent much of their time together, Harry had always gone off with his own friends.

"I think yes," Oliver said with a small nod. "He's always been there for us when we needed him—on the pitch and off, even if we weren't as close with him as with everyone else."

"And I suppose," Katie chipped in now, "when you get right down to it, how our relationship began all leads back to Harry in the end, doesn't it? And, added bonus: I'd say the savior of the wizarding world is basically an expert at avoiding the press. He can be our good luck charm."

Oliver nodded again and added the name to the list, before looking up at Katie once more.

"Charlie Weasley," He stated.

"I thought he must always be referred to as The _Great_ Charlie Weasley?" Katie teased Oliver, grinning cheekily at him.

"So we're agreed then," Oliver said happily, turning back to the parchment.

Charlie Weasley had been Oliver's very first Captain, the one who first gave Oliver a real shot at playing the sport he had always loved. And for all that there were several years between them, Charlie and Oliver had always gotten along great and they had kept in touch after Charlie left school…even if he had committed the greatest tragedy known to mankind and left Quidditch behind in favor of _dragons_.

Katie was frowning when Oliver looked back up from happily adding Charlie's name to the list.

"Who?" He asked simply.

"Ron Weasley," Katie replied, her frown deepening. "We did only play together for about a season and a half, and we were never very close. Really, I only thought of him because it seems like we're inviting half his family."

"So we'd be sending him a pity invite?" Oliver clarified. "I think I'll go with a 'no' on this one."

"I had a feeling you might," Katie said, her frown quickly morphing into a small smile as she shook her head. Katie had long-since forgiven Ron for the horrendous nosebleed he'd given her during their first practice together, all those years ago. After all, Katie Bell most certainly does _not_ hold grudges. But even though he hadn't even been there, seeing as it was Katie who'd been injured, Oliver most definitely _did_.

"And while we're talking about people not to invite," Oliver began tentatively, "I really don't want to invite anyone from Puddlemere. Even if they are the people I spend a majority of my time with these days, I doubt inviting an entire professional Quidditch team will make for a small wedding."

"Make that two teams," Katie corrected him. "We don't need to invite the Harpies, either. And really, in the long run, this is just going to make things more interesting for us, seeing as the only people we plan to tell about our marriage are the people being invited to the wedding. All of our teammates—not to mention the rest of the world—can be completely in the dark."

"That's bound to keep things interesting for a few years, at the very least," Oliver said with a small chuckle. He looked over the short list they had come up with. "Eight people, plus our parents, and whatever family the insist upon."

"Huh," Katie commented thoughtfully. "You know, for the first time, I honestly feel like we're actually going to pull this off."

Naturally, this probably meant that everything was going to turn out to be a complete disaster, but Oliver and Katie were more than used to taking those sorts of things in stride. After everything they'd been through together, a bit of wedding mayhem was probably in order. But as long as they were together, what did it really matter at this point?


	14. Late Summer, 1998: Part One

_Late Summer, 1998: Part One_

_Breathe. Just breathe,_ She kept telling herself.

Katie couldn't remember ever being this nervous before a Quidditch match. But, after all, this was no Quidditch match she had just finished getting ready for. No, this was her wedding day.

In just a few short hours, Katie Bell was going to become Katie Wood.

She had never been more anxious in her entire life. And it _was_ anxiety. Not nerves. Not really. Nerves were what she usually felt before a Quidditch match and sometimes before a big exam. And sweet Merlin she was comparing her feelings before her wedding to what she felt before a test. She wasn't old enough to get married! _Why_ was she getting married?!

"Katie?" A voice broke through her thoughts suddenly. "Katie, are you listening to me? Can you even hear me?"

"Huh?"

"That's what I thought." And finally Katie's gaze—which had been focused unseeingly on nothing in particular just moments previously—came to rest on the other person in the room with her. When had someone else entered the room?

"Katie," The person spoke again and it finally registered with Katie that it was, in fact, her mother in the room with her. Had her mum been here the whole time?

"Yes, mum?" Katie said, surprising even herself with her newfound ability to formulate words.

"You were starting to turn a bit blue, just a moment ago," Mrs. Bell said, the barest hint of a smile on her face. "Have you been remembering to breathe?"

Katie just stared at her mother blankly, causing a look of concern to cross her mother's features.

"Are you alright, Katie?" Mrs. Bell asked, reaching out to hold one of her daughter's clammy hands.

"When did I get so old, mum?" Katie asked suddenly.

Mrs. Bell couldn't help the smile that came to her face at those words. "Dear, you're hardly old. And if you remain insistent about it, then that makes _me_ positively ancient, which I hardly find agreeable."

"But if I'm not old," Katie began, "Then I'm too young to get married."

"Oh, Katie…" Mrs. Bell said with a sudden sigh. "It's alright to be nervous. But…" She appeared worried now, "You aren't going to back out, are you?"

"Of course not," Katie replied indignantly, and Mrs. Bell easily believed her because she finally appeared to be fully out of the daze she'd been in earlier. "I love Oliver. And I do want to marry him. And I will. Today. I just…I've never felt quite so young and unprepared in my entire life."

"That's just what growing up feels like, darling," Mrs. Bell said with a small smile.

"You don't think Oliver and I are rushing into things, then?" Katie asked now. "And don't you dare tell dad I asked, because I know what his answer is."

"Well…" Mrs. Bell hesitated. "I can't exactly say it was my lifelong dream for my only child to get married while she was a teenager, and we both know how your dad feels, of course. But we've both seen you and Oliver together—not nearly as much as we would have liked, of course, after that stunt you pulled last summer—and I've always known this day was going to happen sooner or later. And I really am so very happy for both of you," She suddenly narrowed her eyes at her daughter, "Just as long as I don't have any grandchildren any time soon. I'm not _nearly_ old enough for that."

And finally a smile appeared on Katie's face. "No grandchildren," she agreed.

"But there _will_ be grandchildren one day," Mrs. Bell informed her daughter sternly. "Eventually."

"Well…" Katie wheedled, teasing her mother, "Does it have to be plural?"

Mrs. Bell narrowed her eyes infinitesimally at her only child. "Yes," And suddenly she was grinning, "But there will be plenty of time for us to chat about how many grandchildren I'm expecting later. Right now," She paused in order to glance at the clock that Katie had been steadfastly refusing to acknowledge since entering the room, "I do believe it's time for us to be off."

And at these words, almost surprisingly, Katie's expression relaxed, a peaceful smile crossing her features.

Her anxiety was gone; all she'd needed was a chat with her dear, not-old mum to really take her mind off of things. Yes, she was young, but this was where she wanted to be. Here, about to be married to the love of her life.

"I'm getting married…"

_Three Hours Later…_

"They look gorgeous together, don't you think?" Alicia asked no one in particular.

"What I _think_ is that you've already had too much to drink," Angelina informed her friend, from her seat beside the other girl.

"Nonsense," Charlie cut in from where he was seated across from Angelina. "We've barely started yet."

Angelina shook her head in a hopeless gesture, though there was a smile on her face.

Angelina, Alicia, and Charlie were currently seated at a table they had been assigned at Katie and Oliver's wedding reception, along with Percy, Harry, Lee, George, and Leanne. While Alicia and Leanne both stared dreamily at Katie and Oliver together on the nearby dance floor, Angelina, Charlie, Percy, and Harry were all in favor of what appeared to be the world's longest song ending so that they could finally eat. Lee, meanwhile, was busy staring at Alicia. George merely sat there with a blank look on his face.

"You know," Harry began thoughtfully, "I'm kind of surprised Oliver agreed to get married today, of all days."

"A Monday?" Percy questioned. "It is rather strange…and I had to take off work in order to be here."

Charlie rolled his eyes at his younger brother. "No, you dolt. Although I'm sure we're all so thrilled you deigned to grace us with your presence here, it's actually the Final of the World Cup today. And, personally, I think it's good that Oliver finally found a new priority above Quidditch."

"Are you aware," Angelina began, "That Oliver refers to you as 'The Great Charlie Weasley' because you were his first Quidditch captain?"

"_What_?"

"Huh," Percy said with a smile, pleasantly distracted from his brother's sarcastic comment, "I'd forgotten about that."

"He always was a bit mental," Harry grimaced slightly, clearly remembering his own experiences with Oliver Wood, Quidditch fanatic extraordinaire.

"Brilliant, more like," Charlie was grinning now. "I always knew that kid had the right idea. Quidditch: always a top priority."

Angelina rolled her eyes and turned to Harry now.

"They chose today because it's the only date they're both free for a while."

"Holyhead and Puddlemere play each other soon, don't they?" Harry questioned, recalling a recent conversation with Ginny about her favorite Quidditch team.

"In just a few days," Angelina replied with a grin. "It'll actually be the first game for both of them after today. And it's against each other."

"I think it'll be brilliant," Leanne finally tore her eyes away from the dance floor.

"Why?" Harry questioned.

"Katie and Oliver have a wager on the outcome of the match," Leanne responded.

"What kind of wager?" Percy asked.

"You owe us ten galleons."

Everyone at the table seemed to freeze at the sound of the voice, especially prominent not only because of who had spoken but also because the music had finally ended.

"What?" Angelina was the first to find her voice, her attention—much like the other six at the table—focused on George, who was now staring intently at her.

"You owe use ten galleons," George repeated. "We bet you that Ol and Katie would be married within five years and you said he would never even work up the courage to finally ask her out. That was four years ago. W-_I_ win.

"I forgot about that," Angelina said as a smile slowly spread across her face at the sound of George speaking. "I suppose I do."

"And I believe _I_ told you that you'd lose," Alicia informed Angelina, smiling as well. But, again, her smile was due to the fact that George was actually contributing to the conversation—even if the topic clearly had painful associations for him—and was not merely giving one-word responses, at the continued prodding of his brothers, to questions he hadn't been listening to.

"What is Katie and Oliver's wager about?" Percy asked again, far less interested in the answer than he'd been before, but hopeful his younger brother would remain in the conversation.

"She wants eternal servitude, I believe," Alicia answered now. "But Oliver wants them to buy a house with its own personal Quidditch pitch."

"He would," Charlie said with a shake of his head.

"Or, at least," Leanne spoke up, a sly grin on her face, "Those are the wagers they're admitting to."

No one said anything more, though, as waiters had just appeared with tray of food, and all eight people at the table eagerly dug in.

"We should go," George said suddenly, several minutes later.

"Go where?" Percy asked immediately. "We can't leave in the middle of dinner…"

"To Ol and Kate's game," George replied.

"So we can watch her crush him," Alicia said, an evil glint appearing in her eyes.

"Sounds like fun," Lee said immediately.

"I'm in," Angelina agreed.

"Me, too," Leanne said eagerly.

"So am I," Charlie said, "But only because I know Oliver's going to win."

"As long as you don't start referring to him as your prodigy," Percy began, "Then I'll go, too."

As one, they all turned to Harry, who had yet to say anything on the matter.

"Well…" He hesitated.

"We can bring Ginny," George said suddenly, frowning slightly. "It's before she goes back to school…and I don't think I got her a birthday present…"

"Quidditch it is then," Harry declared. "But…do I have to pick a side?"

"You, Potter," Charlie said with a laugh as he turned back to his meal, "Are the wimpiest savior of the wizarding world I've ever met."


	15. Late Summer, 1998: Part Two

_Late Summer, 1998: Part Two_

Oliver loved two things in life more than anything else: Quidditch and his wife.

Thus, it stood to reason that his two favorite past-times, above all others, included playing Quidditch and spending time with his wife.

Today was a rare occasion when he got to do both. At the same time.

Needless to say, it wasn't going to end well for one of them.

Oliver was suddenly torn from his thoughts by the sound of his name being called.

"Oi! Wood! What about you?"

Oliver looked up from the broomstick he'd been meticulously polishing to see that all of his teammates—minus the captain, who was currently in a meeting with the team manager—looking at him expectantly.

"Er…what about me?" Oliver asked in confusion, having tuned out their entire conversation in favor of his own inner monologue.

"They want to know how you feel about playing the Harpies," Moran, the only female chaser, said with a roll of her eyes.

"Oh…er…if we beat them, then we'll take the lead over Appleby for second," Oliver said. "Plus, it'll give Holyhead their first loss of the season."

"Who cares about our chances to make the playoffs?" Derrick, one of the beaters, asked. "What kind of priorities do you have, Wood?"

"As you can see," Moran said dryly, "We're focused more on the Harpies aspect of the match, rather than the Quidditch."

"It's completely barbaric," The other beater, and also the only other female member of the team, spoke up now.

"Still care to chime in on this conversation, Wood?" Terence Higgs, the seeker, questioned sardonically.

"I think I'll pass," Oliver said swiftly.

"Good call," Higgs said, even as the discussion between the two beaters got more heated. "Oh look, mother and father are fighting again…"

"—all I'm saying, Mack," Derrick was speaking, "Is that I haven't got any sort of problem with Holyhead being an all-female team. Honestly, where could that go wrong?"

"Did you really just say that?" Mackenzie McConnell, otherwise known as Mack, demanded. "I think I know why you're still single…"

Oliver attempted to tune the conversation back out. His peace was short-lived, however, when a very familiar name was brought up.

"—Katie Bell, of course," Derrick was saying.

"What's that about Ka-er, Bell?" Oliver demanded, stumbling over his words a bit.

"My lovely partner's favorite Harpy," Mack replied with pursed lips.

"I wonder if she's single…" Derrick said thoughtfully.

"Leave it alone," Oliver said immediately. It was impossible to miss the warning tone in his voice or the dark frown that spread across his face. He cringed internally when Derrick turned to him with a knowing look.

"Special friend of yours, Wood?" He asked slyly.

"I used to be her captain," Oliver said shortly, attempting to look disinterested as he gave a small shrug. "That's all."

"What?" Bradley, one of the chasers, demanded. "How come this is the first we're hearing of it?"

"You must know all of her moves," Moran jumped in. "And you're only thinking to mention this _now_? You said it yourself: we really need this win."

"Look," Oliver said even more uncomfortable, if possible, with the turn this conversation had taken. "It's been years since we were on a team together. You lot probably know as much as I do, what with all of the scouting we've done."

The locker room was silent for a moment. Then…

"Well do you at least know if she's single or not?" Derrick pressed, causing his assembled teammates to collectively roll their eyes.

"I doubt it," Oliver replied, jumping onto a new tactic as his previous, and admittedly brief, attempt at intimidation had apparently failed. "I actually saw her about a week ago. We were at…a mutual friend's wedding. She had a date."

"Still…" Derrick said, thoughtful once more, "A date isn't necessarily a boyfriend."

"They looked pretty serious to me. And he was a pretty big bloke," Oliver warned his teammate, fighting to keep a concerned expression on his face. "He looked like he could take you if you tried anything with Bell."

"_If_ he knows…" Derrick still had a speculative look about him.

"He looked like the type who would know," Oliver said immediately. "I'd just give her up as a lost cause now, if I was you."

"I suppose…if you're sure," Derrick said, slightly dejected.

"Positive," Oliver stated.

Oliver could barely contain the sigh of relief that passed his lips as the captain chose that moment to enter the locker room for his pre-game pep talk.

Crisis averted. Barely. Hopefully the actual match wouldn't be nearly as stressful…

_Two Hours Later…_

"Katie looks like she's out to kill Oliver," Lee commented in an offhand manner as Puddlemere took possession of the Quaffle.

"He probably left the cap off the toothpaste again this morning," Leanne said knowingly.

"Seriously though," Lee stated, his gaze fixed on the match. "I'm pretty sure she's trying to kill him."

"That was her eighth goal in the past half hour," Angelina chimed in. "I think she might be well on her way to a new league record."

"Best way to continuously humiliate a new spouse within the shortest amount of time possible?" Alicia offered.

It was just over an hour into the match between the Holyhead Harpies and Puddlemere United—or, rather, the showdown between the secret newlyweds: Oliver Wood and Katie Bell. Currently, Puddlemere was being positively crushed by the Harpies. Not that Oliver and his teammates weren't doing their best; they _were_ tied for second in the league, after all. But the Harpies were undefeated for a reason.

"Oliver will recover from this, don't worry," Charlie said confidently.

"I'm pretty sure it's the _chasers_ on Puddlemere that are going to have to make a comeback if they want any chance of winning," Ginny informed her older brother.

"It would probably also help if Derrick and McConnell were on the same page," George commented, eyeing Puddlemere's beaters. "I think she's aimed the bludger at _him_ more often than at the other team."

"He probably deserves it," Leanne said without any hint of remorse.

As was to be expected, the group that had assembled to cheer on Katie and Oliver was rather biased in their loyalty. Angelina, Alicia, and Leanne were most obvious. Katie was their friend, who else would they want to win? Lee, on the other hand, had decided that the Harpies were a good team to cheer for if they were the team Alicia wanted to win.

Likewise, Harry's pick was based on the fact that the Harpies would always be Ginny's favorite team. Honestly, he didn't really have a preference, but if one was going to put him in the good graces of his girlfriend… And no, that did _not_ make him a wimp, no matter what all of the Weasley boys present kept muttering when they thought their sister wasn't paying attention.

Of the Weasleys, Charlie was of the belief that if Oliver considered him his hero, then Oliver deserved to win the match. And Percy was obviously going to cheer for Oliver, one of his oldest friends, to win. Ron's motive for cheering for Puddlemere was a bit different. Honestly, the only reason he'd even come to the match was because George had asked and he'd never turn down a good Quidditch game, even if neither of the teams playing was the Chudley Canons. But there was not a bloody chance he was going to ever think about supporting his little sister's favorite team.

That just left George, who, unlike his brothers, was _not_ an idiot. In fact, he was quite smart. Or, at the very least, smart enough to know when the right time was to be absolutely terrified of his younger sister. Supporting the Harpies alongside her was one of those times. He rather pitied his brothers for the gloating Ginny would most likely soon be doing at their expense.

"No!" Ron cried, though it was drowned out by the roar of half the crowd. Another point for the Harpies, courtesy of Katie Bell. "How could Wood have missed that one?"

"Katie's probably cheating," Charlie said with a frown. Ginny leaned around Harry to glare at her older brother, who quickly backtracked, "Er…I mean, it was an excellent shot. Oliver really didn't have a chance of saving that one."

"And you thought I was the wimp…" Harry muttered under his breath.

"How could she possibly be cheating, anyway?" Angelina questioned. "If anything, Oliver is the one who's handing the game to Katie. How many times has she scored on him now?"

"But I thought they had a wager on the match?" Percy said with a frown. "Why would he _let_ her win?"

"I'm still not entirely convinced Katie was telling the truth about what they wanted from each other," Leanne said. "Seriously, who asks their new wife for a house with a Quidditch pitch?"

"Oliver," came the chorus from Charlie, Harry, Percy, Angelina, Lee, and Alicia.

"Yes!" The cry came from Ron yet again, but this time it was exultant, redirecting everyone's attention back to the game.

The chasers from Puddlemere had managed to get the Quaffle past the Harpies keeper. But the Harpies had long ago pulled ahead, thanks in large part to all of Katie's goals; there wasn't much of a chance that Puddlemere would be catching up any time soon. Plus, within seconds of Puddlemere scoring, each of the seekers fell into a dive after the snitch.

Yes, it was quite clear to everyone who would be winning this game…

_Eight Hours Later…_

Oliver, just about to drift off to sleep on the couch, jerked awake at the sound of the front door closing. Sitting up, he felt around blindly on the nearby coffee table for his watch, only to find it and discover that he definitely didn't have night vision and thus could not see what the time was.

Just at that moment, however, the living room was flooded with light, momentarily blinding Oliver, who had first collapsed onto the couch hours previously, when it was still light outside.

"Oliver?" Katie's voice asked. His still-blurry vision prevented Oliver from seeing her, but he thought she sounded vaguely amused. "What were you doing sitting here in the dark?"

"Sleeping," Oliver replied, rubbing a hand over his eyes. "What time is it?"

"Just after ten," Katie replied, crossing the room and sitting beside her husband on the couch. "Were you waiting up for me?"

"I was wallowing in my misery and self-pity from the comfort of home," Oliver replied, causing Katie to shake her head with a small smile across her features. "Why are you back so early? I figured you'd stay out later celebrating. Congratulations on the new league record, by the way."

"It was hard enough sticking around when they all kept going on about how I was sure to be named Rookie of the Year after today; it reminded me a bit too much of my mum talking about you. But when the drunken singing started…that's when I left," Katie said with a slight grimace, which then morphed into a sly grin. "Besides, why would I want to hang out at a bar where everyone thinks I'm single, when I could be here with you?"

Now it was Oliver's turn to shake his head. "I should have known you'd have a few tricks up your sleeve at the match today when you were going after eternal servitude from me."

Katie grinned brightly. "No hard feelings though, right?"

"Only because I love you," Oliver informed her. "So I take it eternity starts tonight?"

"We can wait until tomorrow," Katie replied.

"Should I be worried?"

If possible, Katie's grin widened, but she didn't say anything as she stood up and began walking in the direction of their bedroom.

"Merlin help me…"

**a/n-Just 2 more chapters and an epilogue...**


	16. Late Winter, 1999

_Late Winter, 1999_

When Oliver returned home for the evening, he was pleasantly surprised by the aroma filling the flat. He quickly made his way to the kitchen, where he found Katie looking out the window, facing away from him; the table was set for their dinner.

Smiling to himself, Oliver quickly crossed the kitchen so that he was standing behind Katie.

"Hello, love," Oliver said, simultaneously wrapping his arms around her and pressing a kiss to her temple.

Katie, having been lost in her own thoughts, started slightly and turned so that she was facing Oliver, his arms still around her.

"I didn't hear you come in," Katie said with a soft smile, wrapping her arms around him as well.

"I'm just incredibly stealthy like that," Oliver replied with a shrug. "Did you make dinner?"

Katie pulled away from Oliver slightly and raised an eyebrow at him.

"I mean," Oliver said quickly, "Clearly you made dinner—it all looks wonderful, by the way. I only meant I thought it was my night to make dinner?"

"I felt like tonight was a good night for an edible meal," Katie replied, a slight teasing note in her voice as she melted back into his embrace, her head coming to rest on his shoulder. "Clearly using the eternal servitude I won from you to send you to cooking classes was a bit of a waste."

"I wouldn't call them a complete waste," Oliver contradicted. "I haven't set the kitchen on fire even once since then."

Oliver could feel Katie shaking with silent laughter for a moment before she disentangled herself from his arms.

"Go sit down," She ordered her husband with a smile, pushing him lightly towards the table.

Five minutes later found both of them sitting at the table, eating the meal Katie had (thankfully) prepared.

"So…" Katie began slowly, "How was your day? I didn't think your meeting would go so late."

"I don't remember a contract signing ever going so long," Oliver agreed. "But they had the whole team there. Everyone needed re-worked contracts after the special ones they put out for the shorter season last year."

"Sound like fun," Katie said dryly.

"I'm sure you'll get to go through all of it soon enough," Oliver said. "But how was your day? Clearly you're feeling better than when I left this morning."

"Quite a bit better," Katie replied with a wan smile. "Actually, I heard from the management in Holyhead today, finally."

"Good news?" Oliver asked. "I'm assuming they don't want to lose their star chaser."

"No. No, they don't," Katie agreed. She bit her lip, mulling over her next words, before deciding to simply plow on, "But I'm afraid it's going to happen whether they like it or not. I've decided to retire."

Katie had stopped eating by this point and now Oliver stopped in shock as well.

"…what?" Oliver spoke slowly, sure he had misheard her.

"I'm retiring from playing Quidditch," Katie replied, her face carefully neutral.

"When?" Oliver's shock had seemingly rendered him momentarily incapable of speaking in more than monosyllabic words.

"This morning," Katie replied easily, seemingly unaffected by her husband's mounting distress. "Or, rather, I suppose it was technically this afternoon."

"But…why would you _do_ that?" Oliver demanded helplessly, and Katie barely managed to reign in the smile that threatened to break free at his outburst. "Why would you _want_ to? Who would want to stop playing _Quidditch_? It's the best job ever! And you're in your prime! Why retire now? Why retire _at all_? I mean, I know you like to say that I'm overly obsessed, but I just don't understand. Isn't playing Quidditch professionally all you've ever wanted? Is it just Holyhead that you don't want to play for anymore? You already said they offered you a new contract, so it can't be that they didn't want you anymore. Did you not get along with the people there? I thought you loved your teammates! If that's the case, I happen to know any other team in the league would love to have you. You see? Don't be rash, Katie. You don't have to retire."

Katie simply sat there patiently throughout his rant. Once he had finished, she looked thoroughly amused.

"It's really not a matter of 'having' to retire," Katie informed her husband, who was now giving her a look that clearly said he was imploring her to come to her senses. "It's more like I _want_ to retire."

"But _why_?" Oliver repeated. "You basically just had the best season the league has ever seen! Who _wants_ to retire after being named Rookie of the Year? You're brilliant at Quidditch! You have _years_ of playing left still!"

"This is true," Katie conceded with a slight nod. "But I just don't think pregnancy and playing Quidditch mix together very well."

"Oh, well, I suppose that makes sense," Oliver said thoughtfully. Then his wife's words seemed to fully sink in, "_What?!_"

"Surprise," Katie offered with a smile.

"You're…but we…I…pregnant?" Oliver sputtered.

Katie simply nodded. "Funny you should mention my being named Rookie of the Year. Do you remember the League dinner just after Christmas, when that announcement was made?"

Now it was Oliver's turn to nod.

"Yes, well, now I'm pregnant," Katie informed him.

"Pregnant…" Oliver breathed. "That's…that's…" Suddenly a smile lit up his face, "That's fantastic. We're going to have a _baby_."

"Generally that's what pregnancy entails," Katie said, still looking as if she was getting far too much enjoyment out of Oliver's reaction.

"A baby," Oliver repeated, so lost in his thoughts he didn't hear her. "You and me…parents…I think I need to sit down."

Katie had to bite her lip to keep a laugh from escaping. "Oliver, dear, you are sitting down."

"Oh…" Oliver looked around himself as if in a daze, "I suppose I am."

"Are you alright?" Katie asked now. And suddenly she looked worried, "You really are excited about this, aren't you? I mean, I know what you said, but…you aren't upset, are you?"

This got Oliver's attention, and he immediately reached across the space between them to grasp Katie's hands in his own. "Of course I'm not upset. It's a bit sudden, yes. After all, we haven't even been married a full six months yet. But does it upset me? Definitely not. We're going to have a baby…"

Katie couldn't help the grin that spread across her face to match his. But then it suddenly fell from his face.

"But…this _is_ good…right?" He asked hesitantly. "I mean…your career…"

"Believe it or not, I've found one of those rare things that is more important than Quidditch," Katie said with a small laugh; Oliver, always true to himself, looked rather torn at that, but Katie knew his heart was in the right place. "Besides, it might be over just a tad sooner than I had expected, but at least I'm leaving on a high note and for a good reason—even if no one is going to know what the real reason is. And…I suppose I could always go back to it one day."

"I suppose retiring really is the best way to keep our private lives private," Oliver agreed. "This way, word won't get out to people who don't need to know about the baby."

"The Harpies probably won't take me back, of course, if I do end up deciding retirement really isn't for me," Katie stated. "To be honest, the manager wasn't very happy with me when I said I wasn't going to be coming back."

"Did she cause you any problems?" Oliver asked, concerned.

Katie shook her head. "She calmed down once I explained that I was retiring and not leaving Holyhead for a better offer."

"I don't know," Oliver said with a smile now, "I'd say you definitely got a better offer."

Katie smiled at that, before slipping her hands out of his grasp and standing up. "That reminds me; I made a special dessert so we can celebrate."

Oliver waited until Katie was walking past him, before reaching out and wrapping his arm around her waist so he could pull her onto his lap.

"I have a better idea of something we can do to celebrate," Oliver informed her.

"I'm sure you do," Katie replied cheekily. "Hmm…that reminds me…"

Oliver waited patiently for her to continue, tightening his grip on her as he hugged her closer.

"You might end up getting your wish," Katie mused aloud.

"What wish?" Oliver replied.

"I do believe you once…twice…maybe several thousand times, mentioned something about owning a house with its own Quidditch pitch," Katie said. "Not that I necessarily think we need to go looking for something that extreme now, but this flat is definitely going to be too small for us soon."

"Nothing about Quidditch is too extreme," Oliver informed his wife.

Katie looked at him thoughtfully. "We're also going to have to have a chat about how old our child is going to be before you start buying him or her any brooms that are meant for anything but sweeping the floor."

"No child of mine will ever do anything as disgraceful as sweep the floor with a broom," Oliver declared. "That's the greatest form of blasphemy I've ever heard of."

"Ah, so you're volunteering to help your child with the chores, then? Lovely."

"Why do I have a feeling that this baby is going to end up being only my child whenever it does something bad or makes a mess?" Oliver questioned.

Katie simply smiled sweetly at him. "You're already shaping up to be an excellent father, dear."

**a/n—Last chapter I said that (including this chapter) there would only be 2 chapters left, plus an epilogue. I've decided that was most likely a false alarm and there's going to be an additional chapter in between this one and the one I had already planned on, meaning that after this there are **_**now**_** only 2 chapters and an epilogue left. Happy Friday!**


	17. Early Spring, 1999

_Early Spring, 1999_

It took approximately one week of staying at home, cooking meals, and doing all of the cleaning and grocery shopping for Katie to definitively decide that retirement really wasn't for her. At least not at this age. She needed to actually _do_ something. Anything.

And her specifications for something to do weren't anything outrageous. Any task that wasn't completely mind-numbing—such as those she'd recently been suffering through—would do. And so she sent a letter out, which was followed up by making arrangements to meet up, and now resulted in her standing in front of a shop in Diagon Alley.

With a wry grin and a shake of her head at the storefront, Katie walked up to the door and pushed it open. She was surprised—but also just a tad relieved—to find the shop seemingly deserted.

"Hello?" Katie called out almost immediately after stepping over the threshold. She was a bit antsy about this particular shop being so quiet.

"Katie?" A voice responded.

Katie made her way through the store, wary of touching anything, attempting to follow the direction that the voice had come from. She reached the back of the store just as George stepped off the staircase that lead up to the flat above the shop.

"So it _is_ you," George said with a smile. "And here I was thinking I had an actual customer who wasn't going to respond to the name 'Katie'."

Katie simply smiled back and hugged George in greeting.

"Speaking of customers," She began once they had separated again, "Why _don't_ you have any?"

George shrugged. "For some reason that I've never quite been able to figure out, every so often people decide they don't need to go to a joke shop in the middle of the afternoon during the middle of the week, especially in the middle of the school year." Then he grinned, "Just your luck, today is one of those days. Come on, I've got lunch ready upstairs."

Katie hesitated for the briefest moment, "Don't you need to be down here in case you do get any customers?"

"Verity should be back from her lunch break in about five minutes," George said with a wave of his hand. "And if anyone else comes in before that, there's a bell that will go off upstairs."

"You really have thought of everything…" Katie murmured, more to herself than to George, as she followed him up the stairs.

"Haven't you heard?" George turned slightly as he walked in order to grin cheekily at his old friend, "I'm a proper businessman, now. I can't go neglecting my clients."

"I don't really think 'George Weasley' and 'proper' really belong in the same sentence," Katie shot back, her grin just as cheeky as his.

Their playful banter continued as they sat down to lunch and lasted well into the meal, until George finally turned the conversation topic back onto Katie.

"And how is your wonderful husband doing these days?" He asked.

"Oliver is doing just fine," Katie replied, unable to help the smile that spread across her face at the thought of her husband. "His training schedule is a bit intense at the moment, though, so I don't see him as much as I'd like."

"Ah…yes," George said slowly, "I suppose that would also be because you _haven't_ been busy, isn't it?"

Katie choked slightly on the sip of water she had just taken. "What? How did you know that?"

"Well, for starters," George began, "When have you ever been free in the middle of the day before? Also, it doesn't hurt that I happen to be related to the person the Harpies signed on as their new starting chaser."

"They offered Ginny the contract?" Katie questioned. "That's fantastic! I knew they were in serious talks with her, but nothing had been agreed upon when I left a few weeks ago. I think the fact that she still has to finish school was holding things up a bit."

"You've known for weeks?" George asked now, some surprise evident in his tone. "Why, Miss Bell—sorry, _Mrs. Wood_, it hurts that you wouldn't confide in any of your dear friends—such as myself—that you quit your job," By this point he was holding one hand to his chest theatrically while the other wiped a fake tear from his cheek. "But do tell, why in Merlin's name did you quit? This was rather sudden; Angie didn't even mention anything about you talking to her about it."

"Well," Katie began slowly, drawing the word out, "I didn't actually quit, per se. I retired."

"Retired?" George repeated, even more shocked now. "Never mind that it's so sudden you didn't even mention it to any of your friends, what could ever give you the incentive to retire like this at your age?"

"I didn't mean to keep it from everyone," Katie admitted. "It's all been a bit of a whirlwind actually and—hang on! Why were you talking to Angelina?"

George started at her sudden outburst.

"I…er…we're friends," George said swiftly, avoiding her gaze. "Why shouldn't we talk to each other? You and I are talking right now, aren't we?"

"But that's just it," Katie said, her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "I haven't been trying to keep things from my friends. You're just the first person who's been free to meet up. Angelina keeps telling me she's busy. But if she's been spending time with _you_…"

"We really are just friends," George said, holding his hands up as if in surrender. "In fact, I only just moved back in here," he gestured vaguely to the flat all around them, "and she helped me."

Katie's expression remained speculative as she listened to his explanation. "Do you want to remain 'just friends'?" She asked next.

George hesitated. "Er…well…"

"Good," Katie said decisively. "The two of you would make a lovely couple. Oh, and before I forget or get sidetracked again, the reason I retired is because I only just recently found out that I'm pregnant. Oliver and I are going to have a baby."

George merely stared at his old teammate blankly for a moment before a broad grin spread across his features and he was out of his seat and around the table in an orange and magenta blur in order to sweep Katie into a hug.

"That's fantastic news!" George beamed ecstatically. "A mini-Katie or Ollie. I suppose that _is_ a good reason to retire."

"Yes, I thought so, too," Katie replied with a grin of her own, hugging him back with just as much enthusiasm. "Of course, when the final rosters for the new season come out in a few days, the rest of the world isn't going to get that reason for my early retirement."

"Best prank ever," George informed her, finally releasing her from the hug and collapsing into the nearest empty chair, a familiar gleam in his eyes. "Just imagine the tizzy it's going to put the QUidditch world into when a mini-Wood shows up at Hogwarts in eleven years or so…"

"There's something else…" Katie continued slowly, biting her lip nervously. "I realize it's a bit early, but Oliver and I talked it over, and we want you to be the godfather, George."

"I…godfather?" George looked slightly dazed. "Really? You mean it?"

"Of course," Katie said immediately, reaching out and grasping one of his limp hands tightly within her own. "You know very well that you and Fred were two of my best friends in school. I wouldn't have anyone else."

George's eyes were a bit glassy and his smile much softer as he squeezed her hand. "Thank you, Katie."

"And I swear I'm not making this up on the spot," Katie said now, "But we're going to ask Angie to be the godmother."

Still smiling, George shook his head but didn't say anything.

"Do you know," He finally began after a moment of companionable silence, getting back to his feet, "I think this calls for a celebration. Luckily, I think I have some kind of dessert stashed somewhere around here…"

Ten minutes later found both Katie and George seated at the table once more, each with a massive ice cream sundae before them.

"There is one last thing I wanted to talk to you about," Katie said slowly, twirling her spoon through her ice cream absentmindedly.

"There's _more_?" George asked, looking slightly amused with one eyebrow quirked. "What else could you possibly have to say today, Katie?"

"Well…" Katie said slowly, "I've recently decided that retirement is actually quite dull."

"I couldn't have seen that one coming," George muttered with a snort of laughter.

"Exactly," Katie agreed. "But, you see, I was thinking maybe you could help me with that."

"Anything," George replied with an easy shrug. "You know, so I can do my part to prove that earless people can still be helpful to society."

Now it was Katie's turn to laugh. "Well, I know you weren't very busy today, but I was wondering if I could maybe have a job? It doesn't have to be full-time, or anything," She rushed to add before he could say anything. "Honestly, at this point, I think I'd be happy with one day a week. I mean, I've been home by myself for barely two weeks and I'm going absolutely barmy being all on my own for most of that time. You have no idea how excited I was when you said you were free for lunch today."

"Of course you can have a job," George told her instantly. "Do you really think I'd deny the mother of my favorite godchild something as simple as that? And I'm sure you're only saying you'd settle for part-time because you saw how dead the shop was today. I promise that rarely ever happens. Besides, our busy season is coming up soon; and it'll be extra-busy because the Easter holiday will be right at the beginning of April this year."

"Clearly this is why you're my favorite person ever, George," Katie informed him, unable to help the wide grin that spread across her face as she spoke.

"There is the small issue of your identity, of course," George said thoughtfully, taking in Katie's appearance. "After what you went through to keep your relationship with Oliver quiet, I'm assuming you aren't going to want people recognizing you in your retirement?"

"No," Katie shook her head, "But I figured a few well-placed glamour charms would do the trick."

"They would…" George remained thoughtful, and then his face suddenly lit up. "I've got it! You can be a walking advertisement for a new product we're marketing. It's a candy that changes your hair color for up to five hours."

"Would I be correct in assuming that this color change you speak of actually changes your hair to all sorts of outrageous colors?" Katie asked, amused.

"Oh, but of course," George replied immediately.

"Not that I don't think that's a good idea," Katie began slowly, "But won't that make me even more noticeable?"

"Well, _duh_," George said with a roll of his eyes. "Rule number one: In order to hide in plain sight, stand out so much that everyone has to notice you."

"That makes almost no sense," Katie said, "And yet it's brilliant."

George gave her a self-satisfied shrug. "I do my best."


	18. Late Summer, 1999

**a/n—This, dear readers, is it. We have finally reached the point in the story where the prologue left off. Only the epilogue left after this.**

_Late Summer, 1999_

As Oliver leaned back from kissing his sleeping wife, Katie began to stir.

"Ol?" She mumbled, still half-asleep as she opened one eye blearily. "That you?"

"It's me," Oliver said with a smile, still kneeling beside the couch. "They let us out of training a bit early today. You go back to sleep; I'll get dinner ready."

Both of Katie's eyes were open by now and she pushed herself up into a sitting position. "Come sit by me," She said with a yawn, patting the cushion beside her and Oliver wasted no time in complying with her request.

"How was training today?" Katie asked once she was nestled into Oliver's embrace. He had one arm wrapped around her shoulders while his free hand was intertwined with one of hers and resting lightly atop her very pregnant stomach. "Everyone still reveling in beating the Harpies?"

"Definitely," Oliver replied. "Management decided that we deserve tomorrow off after how we played against them. And after they let us out early, the rest of the team went out together to continue celebrating the win."

"And you came home instead?" Katie asked, a smirk playing at the corners of her lips. "You're getting soft in your old age…"

"Or maybe I just figured you'd be better company," Oliver said, "But if you'd rather I go to the pub and get completely smashed, I suppose I can leave…"

"Oh no, you're staying right here," Katie informed her husband, snuggling further into his arms though he hadn't made a move to separate himself from her. "I don't get to spend nearly as much time with you as I'd like."

"I just can't please you, can I?" Oliver asked with a theatrical sigh. "First you make fun of me for coming straight home to you and then you as good as tell me I'm not allowed out of your sight."

"It's probably just the hormones acting up," Katie stated, her eyes sparkling in amusement. "I'm bound to figure out my feelings towards you eventually."

"Well, I hope I'm not being too optimistic hoping that things will turn out in my favor," Oliver teased her lightly. "I mean, now that I don't have to compete with George for your affections every day."

"Oh sure," Katie said as she pulled back slightly to look Oliver in the face, "And now _you're_ going to make fun of _me_ for getting fired…"

"I thought you quit because work was getting to be too much for you this late in the pregnancy? Does this mean you _didn't_ choose me over George, then?"

"You're impossible," Katie informed her husband with an amused shake of her head, before sinking back into his embrace.

The couple settled into a comfortable silence after that, both content to merely sit there with the other. Katie was about to drift back to sleep when Oliver spoke once more.

"I thought we could go look at houses again tomorrow," He said, absentmindedly tracing patterns on her arm with the hand that wasn't holding hers. If Katie concentrated, she was pretty sure she'd be able to interpret a few old Quidditch plays from the seemingly random patterns his fingers were tracing.

"We _did_ want to be out of here by the time the baby came, didn't we?" Katie finally replied.

"We did," Oliver agreed slowly. "And it _could_ still happen…probably…if we find something we actually like."

"I have a suspicion that this baby is never actually going to be born. I'm just going to be pregnant forever…" Katie said with a small sigh. "It's been more than a week since my due date already. One thing is certain, though. If this baby ever decides to make an appearance, she won't be scheduling any dawn practices if she's made Quidditch captain at school. She's clearly not fond of being early for anything."

Oliver frowned slightly. "What do you mean, '_if_' she's made captain? Of course she'll be made captain!" He paused, and seemed to realize what he'd just said. "And didn't we agree that the baby was going to be a _boy_?"

Katie laughed at this. "_You_ said you wanted a boy, but you agreed to be surprised. I'm just trying to keep you open to the idea that _maybe_ we'll have a daughter."

"A daughter who's going to be bloody brilliant at Quidditch and be named captain of her house team without question," Oliver said determinedly.

"Of course, dear," Katie replied, a slight teasing note still in her voice that Oliver chose to ignore.

"You know," Oliver began abruptly, "It's September first today."

"It is," Katie confirmed.

"That's the start of school at Hogwarts," Oliver said thoughtfully. "Give it a few years, and we'll be going to Platform 9 ¾ again at the end of every summer."

"And to think," Katie chimed in, "Just three short years ago today _I_ was on my way to Hogwarts for the last time, wallowing in self-pity because I thought nothing would ever come of my crush on my former Quidditch captain because I knew he would always think I was too young for him because I was still in school."

"I feel as if I should feel touched that you thought about me that much," Oliver told her, "But I still feel a bit bad about that whole mess I made by losing touch with you."

"You feel too guilty about _everything_," Katie informed her husband, poking him in the side for emphasis. "Why, I wouldn't be surprised if you were still torn up about that loss to Hufflepuff six years ago, never mind that circumstances were far beyond your control."

"Not everything," Oliver informed her cheekily. "For example, I don't feel the slightest bit guilty about seducing a younger woman and convincing her to marry me."

"Oh? So it took some convincing, did it?" Katie questioned, pulling away from Oliver slightly and glaring at him playfully. "And it only worked because you seduced me, did you?"

Each word was punctuated with a poke of Katie's finger into Oliver's chest.

"I mean that in the most loving way possible, of course," Oliver informed her earnestly. By this time, Katie had pulled herself out of his embrace fully and was now kneeling on the couch beside him, her playful glare looking entirely unintimidating due to a combination of her messy hair—a remnant of her earlier nap—and her obviously pregnant stomach. It also didn't hurt that Oliver was frequently distracted by how gorgeous he always thought his wife was.

"I'll give you loving, Mr. Wo—" Katie broke off suddenly, a look of shock on her face.

"Katie?" Oliver questioned when she didn't continue, concern etched on his features. His hands hovered before her helplessly, unsure of how to help. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"Oliver," Katie began slowly, her expression unreadable as her hands dropped to her stomach, "I think your future Quidditch captain is finally ready to make his or her debut."


	19. Epilogue: Early Winter, 2011

_Early__ Winter, 2011_

They arrived at Platform 9 ¾ just as the Hogwarts Express was pulling to a stop.

"Can you see her?" The little boy in Oliver's arms demanded. "Is she here? Can I go find her?"

"Calm down," Katie told her son with an amused smile. "Look, people are only just starting to get off the train now. We'll watch for your sister."

"Keep a look out for a kid with funny colored hair, too, would you?" A voice asked from behind the family (temporarily) of three.

As one, both Katie and Oliver turned to see none other than Harry Potter standing there.

"Harry," Katie smiled warmly and went to give her old teammate a hug. "It's been a while. How are you? How are Ginny and the kids? Actually…what are you even doing here?"

"Good, all good," Harry replied with a smile of his own, returning the hug easily. "I'm here to pick up my godson. You've met Teddy, haven't you?" At Katie's nod he continued, "Well there's no telling what he's going to look like today; he likes to think it's his job to keep me on my toes."

Although he complained, it would have been hard to miss the obvious affection Harry held for his godson.

"But never mind that," Harry said with a wave of his hand. "How have you been? I haven't seen you since…Merlin, it's been a while, hasn't it?"

"Freddie's last birthday party?" Katie offered. "That was more than a year ago. We couldn't make Roxie's back in August because _someone_ had a match out of the country. And he couldn't even make it worthwhile that I had to miss my goddaughter's birthday party…"

"Oi!" Oliver interjected, the barest trace of a smile on his face. "There's no 'I' in 'team,' remember? It's not completely my fault we lost that match."

"Mummy said you didn't make enough saves," The boy in Oliver's arms piped up just then.

"And now you're trash-talking me to the children?" Oliver questioned his wife dramatically. He turned his attention back to his son, "What other lies has Mummy been telling you about my excellent Quidditch-playing abilities?"

The boy scrunched up his face as he thought. "Well…Mummy did say that playing Chaser was the best position ever. Does that mean it's bad that you play Keeper?"

He spoke with such solemnity that Harry had to bite his lip to keep from laughing. Some things about Katie would never change…

"_What?!_" Oliver cried, his attention back on Katie now. But Katie was determinedly looking at their son.

"And do you remember what else Mummy said when we had that conversation?" She asked him.

"That Daddy would actually believe me when I said that," he replied with a giggle, "Because Daddy is silly if he thinks that _you_ think there's ever been a better keeper than him because he's your most favorite keeper ever."

"That's my boy," Katie said with a smile, giving her son and her husband each a kiss on the cheek.

"You've trained him well, Katie," Harry said with an amused shake of his head. "But I swear, it must have been longer than I thought since I saw all of you; Darren was barely out of diapers and definitely not talking then. How old are you now, mate?"

Darren held up five fingers proudly. "And really, really soon I'll be six and then I'll be almost old enough to go to Hogwarts with Jos."

"You know, I have a son exactly the same age as you," Harry told Darren. "You'll be at Hogwarts together."

"Is he here?" Darren asked eagerly. "Can we play Quidditch together? Can we be friends?"

"Now I know he's definitely your son: first and foremost it's always about Quidditch," Harry informed Oliver with a grin before turning back to Darren. "He's not here today, but I'm sure he'd love to play with you sometime."

Darren's eyes widened with excitement. "_Thank_ you Mr. Harry!"

"You know," Harry said, looking considerately now at Darren. "I do have a niece taking the train here today. She's in her first year and I think I might have heard a rumor about who her best friend at school is. I don't suppose you know anyone named Joscelind Wood, do you?"

If possible, Darren's eyes became even wider now, this time in amazement. "That's my sister!"

"I had a feeling she might be," Harry said with a smile.

"Speaking of your sister," Oliver began thoughtfully, his gaze out across the crowded platform, "I think I might see her over there."

"Where?" Darren demanded immediately, turning in his father's arms in order to look in the same direction. "I see her! Mummy, look! I see her! The boy and girl with her have orange hair!"

Darren squirmed in Oliver's embrace, until his father set him on the ground. As he ran off through the crowd, his parents followed along at a slower pace, chatting a bit more with Harry. By the time they caught up with him, the three students had been joined by several more people.

"Hey Bill, Fleur," Harry greeted his brother-in-law and his wife before turning to the boy standing with Joscelind and Victoire. "Trying to go home with the Weasley's instead of me again, mate?"

"Never," A very ginger Teddy Lupin grinned cheekily at him.

"Uncle Harry?" Harry looked down to see Dominique pulling on his sleeve earnestly.

"What's up, Dom?" He asked the young girl.

"How do _you_ know Oliver Wood?" She asked in awe, her eyes wide as they flicked back-and-forth between her uncle and the man he'd walked over with.

Oliver, in the middle of a discussion with Bill Weasley, looked over to the pair at the sound of his name.

"We used to play Quidditch together," Harry replied with a shrug, holding back a grin in anticipation of his niece's reaction. It was practically unheard of for any member of the Weasley family to _not_ like Quidditch, but nine-year-old Dominique was far beyond obsessed.

"_You_ used to play _Quidditch_ with _Oliver Wood_?" Dominique demanded, sounding completely scandalized. "And you never _told_ me? Uncle Harry! He's my favorite Quidditch player of _all time_!"

"And he's standing there talking to your dad," Harry said, nodding in the direction of Bill and Oliver, who was holding Darren again by this point. When he saw both men were now looking at him, he winked at them. "You know, I bet he would love to meet you."

If possible, Dominique's eyes opened even wider and her mouth opened in a silent 'O'. "Really?" She finally managed to squeak out.

Harry nodded earnestly. "Sure thing; I'll introduce you."

The following two minutes were clearly the best moments of young Dominique's life. But when the reality of the situation—she was _shaking hands_ with _Oliver Wood_!—finally sunk in, she narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

"Hang on a minute," Dominique said, "What are you doing here? You don't go to Hogwarts anymore…"

"He's picking me up," Joscelind piped up, having watched the exchange curiously even as she introduced her friend to her mother.

"But why?" Dominique's attention was on Joscelind now. "Is he your uncle?"

"No, he's my _dad_," Joscelind said, as if this was the obvious answer.

"What?!" Dominique rounded on Oliver now. Oliver, for his part, was quite sure that he had never been more afraid of a nine-year-old before in his life. Some fans… "You have a _daughter_?"

Oliver looked to Katie helplessly. Katie, for her part, laughed silently at her husband's obvious distress. None of this escaped Dominique's notice, nor did the fact that her idol was holding another child who looked very similar to her older sister's new friend.

"And a son?" She continued. "And…And you're married? B-But, Puddlemere is my favorite team ever and none of the magazines or your official player biography say that you have a family."

"Well I see the cat's out of the bag, now," A voice said from behind the group.

"Uncle George!" Joscelind and Victoire exclaimed at the same time, then looked sheepishly at the other.

"What are you doing here?" Joscelind asked.

"Why I came to see my favorite Hogwarts-aged goddaughter, of course," George replied, "Before her parents attempted to keep her all to themselves for the whole time she's home from school. And my favorite Weasley nieces and nephew, too."

"Hey!" Teddy protested.

"Oh, yeah, and that kid," George amended, jerking his thumb in Teddy's direction, his grin growing wider as both Joscelind and Victoire rolled their eyes at the jokester. He turned back to Dominique then, "You didn't even get to the best part yet."

"There's _more_?" Dominique demanded.

George nodded earnestly. "The woman Oliver Wood is married to is _Katie Bell_."

Dominique frowned thoughtfully. "I think I know that name…"

"You used to play for the Holyhead Harpies," It was Teddy who had spoken up. The adults all turned to look at him in surprise, but he had eyes only for Katie, who looked rather impressed that he'd recognized her, considering… "When I was a baby, and a little bit before I was born. My mum had an autographed picture of you. I think you would have been her favorite player; you were even better than Aunt Ginny—I mean…er…sorry, Harry."

Harry just smiled at his godson. "I won't tell if you don't."

"I remember now! You only played for one season but you were really good!" Dominique interjected excitedly. "You still hold the league record for most goals scored in a single match. I know because it was a match against Puddlemere, which is my favorite team."

Katie couldn't help the laughter that escaped her at this pronouncement. "That I do. And you know," She leaned a bit closer to Dominique and lowered her voice conspiratorially, "I scored all of them against Oliver Wood over there."

Dominique glanced at Oliver quickly before looking back to Katie and confiding in equally hushed tones, "I thought someone was going to break your record in Puddlemere's loss against Bigonville last August for sure."

Katie smirked at her husband over Dominique's head. "I knew I wasn't the only one who thought he let through a few more goals than usual in that match."

"Would you look at the time?" Oliver interrupted loudly. "I think it's about time to start heading home."

Still smirking slightly, Katie rolled her eyes at her husband, but went to help Joscelind with her trunk. Once the members of the Wood family had said their farewells—"Don't forget to ask your son to play Quidditch with me, Mr. Harry!" Darren called over his dad's shoulder—Katie and Oliver apparated their children home. No sooner had they entered the house, than Darren was out of his father's arms once more and challenging his sister to a game of Quidditch.

While their children raced off to so that Darren could find his favorite Quaffle and Joscelind could put her trunk in her room, Oliver turned to his wife and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close before she could attempt to remove her cloak.

"Well that was certainly a surprise," Oliver said as Katie wrapped her arms around his neck as well. "I wonder if anyone made the connection with Joscelind at Hogwarts; she never mentioned anything in her letters."

"You just have obsessed fans everywhere, don't you?" Katie teased.

"Turns out you do too," Oliver teased right back.

"You know," Katie said, suddenly thoughtful, "I think I remember that autograph. It was just after I signed on as a reserve; it must have been the first autograph I ever gave anyone. Fred and George said it was a wedding gift for a friend."

"Do you ever miss it?" Oliver asked, genuinely curious about the question he'd been meaning to ask her for years.

"Sure," Katie said honestly. "I loved playing professionally, and it was great while it lasted. But I wouldn't give up Joscelind and Darren for anything."

"You could always go back," Oliver was the thoughtful one now. "It'd be easy enough now that Jos is at school and Darren is older."

"I could," Katie agreed, and Oliver easily recognized the playful glint that had suddenly appeared in her eyes. "But I think I'd much rather live off your money, instead."

"I always suspected you were only with me for my money," Oliver said with a sigh.

"And don't forget your dashing good looks," Katie informed him. "And your sexy accent."

"All very important things in a good husband," Oliver agreed solemnly. Then he and Katie broke into identical grins and she leaned up on her toes to give him a chaste kiss.

"Plus," Katie continued, pulling away from him as the sounds of Joscelind and Darren's footsteps approached them at a rapid pace. "The last time I even considered going back to work, we ended up with Darren."

"Hold on just a minute," Oliver retorted, keeping his arms firmly around her, "_I_ thought we ended up with Darren because I got named captain of Puddlemere."

"Come on, Dad!" Darren announced his presence as he skidded to a stop in front of his parents with a Quaffle in one hand and holding the other out to Oliver imperiously. Joscelind stood just behind him. "You promised me you'd play with me and Jos today."

"And we need you to unlock the broom shed," Joscelind added quickly.

Oliver scrunched his face up theatrically. "But it's snowing today…"

"Da-_ad_!" Both Darren and Joscelind sounded scandalized that a little snow would stop their dad from playing Quidditch with them. "You promised!"

"Hmm…I guess I did," Oliver mused. And, in one swift motion, he released his grip on Katie and snatched the Quaffle from Darren's embrace, only to toss it to Joscelind, who caught the ball reflexively as Oliver swept Darren into his arms and threw him over his should like a sack of flour. "Quidditch it is!"

"And I'm going to beat you, too!" Darren declared, his face slowly turning red as he dangled half upside-down.

"Me, too!" Joscelind chimed in.

"Try to go easy on your dad," Katie called out with a laugh as Joscelind followed Oliver and Darren through the house. "You know he's used to playing all those crazy professionals."

"Okay, Mum!" The shout rang out just before the back door was unceremoniously slammed shut.

The smile remained on Katie's face several minutes later as she watched the trio through the window, her cloak still draped across her shoulders.

It was true, she couldn't help but think to herself, what she'd told Oliver earlier. A part of her _would_ always miss playing for the Harpies. After all, Katie Bell had always been a fantastic Quidditch player. But Katie _Wood_ had a superb life, one she wouldn't give up for anything. She had two wonderful children and she was married to the man she'd been in love with since she was a teenager.

A triumphant shout distracted her from her thoughts and she refocused her attention only to meet Oliver's gaze. Darren had his arms raised in victory while Joscelind was retrieving the Quaffle from where it lay on the ground behind Oliver, clearly having been shot through one of the low hoops Oliver had been guarding from their five-year-old son. Oliver raised a hand and gestured for Katie to join them.

Katie's grin widened as she stepped outside into the cool air and Darren called to her, "Come help us beat Daddy again, Mummy!"

Yes, playing for the Harpies had been fun, but who really needed a professional team when she had such intense competition right here?

**a/n—I could tell you all sorts of fun things about this epilogue. Like how I wasn't going to work on it because I wanted to write something else first. Or how when I did write it instead of the other story I was going to work on first, I wrote it in 2 hours flat and promptly didn't post it. Or how after getting through writing the whole thing, I realized a lot of it didn't make sense and I was going to need to rewrite pretty much the whole thing. Or even how for much of the two hours I wrote this in originally I drove myself nearly to insanity by listening to "The Answer to Our Life" by Backstreet Boys nonstop (love 'em but dear lord…the **_**constant**_** repetition…). Yes, I could tell you **_**many**_** things about the adventure getting this epilogue to you entailed. But, instead, I shall leave you with this:**

**Trivia! If you have read any of my other stories and have paid particularly close attention, you'll know that Joscelind and Darren have each made their own appearances in separate stories (well, I suppose Darren's was more of a detailed reference than an actual appearance, technically, but whatever). Do YOU know which two stories they are? I'll give you a hint: it's not the one-shot I haven't posted yet, in which Katie and Oliver discuss names for all of their potetnial children. ****And on that note, I will hopefully be finishing a oneshot very soon that explains where Joscelind and Darren got their names.**

**In other news, can I tell you a secret? This story was only supposed to be 5 chapters long. Yes, FIVE. So thank you to all of you wonderful readers and reviewers for sticking through the several dozen epiphanies I had along the way. I hope you enjoyed the story! Thanks for reading!**


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